L'Angelo Della Morte
by Tellytubby101
Summary: Bella POV: "I was the light and the darkness brought together in one. Half vampire. Half human. But I fought for the light and I strived to end the darkness. It’s because that’s who I am. Isabella Marie Swan. Vampire Hunter. And this is my story." AU.
1. Ancient History

**_L'Angelo Della Morte._**

**A/N: Yes, the title is odd and in a different language, but it'll explain itself in another chapter. *Sigh*.**

**Bella is a hybrid in this story (half human, half vampire). I know, I know, I have another story where Bella is a hybrid. I'm starting to think I have a thing for them. But in this story, Bella grew up isolated and not in a very supportive environment, thus changing her outlook on life drastically.**

**In this story, her scent doesn't change and she smell doubly enticing to vampires. Also, vampire venom marks and scars her. Unique ability here. :-)**

**Disclaimer: I do not have any rights over Twilight. If I did, Renessmee would never have been born and Jacob most certainly wouldn't have imprinted on her. **

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**All BPOV**

**Prologue.**

_Vampires_.

They were the scourge of the earth.

Killing innocents left and right for some sadistic pleasure.

Draining them dry of their blood.

Sometimes they would even torture and play with their "meal" before they killed them.

They were not worthy of tainting the air with their breathing.

Yet they always ask why I hunt them down right before I kill them.

That always makes me laugh before I burn them to ashes.

It's because that's who I am. Isabella Marie Swan. Vampire Hunter.

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**Chapter One.**

I was born a killer. Literally. Ripping out of my mother's stomach killed her. Yet she loved me. Her dying words were, "Honey, I love you." She said that right after she named me. Then she was taken away from me, finally resting, hopefully up in heaven where she belongs.

Though my heart was full of love for her, I still killed her. Sometimes, I wondered whether that was all I could do. It was so hard to tear myself away from her freshly bleeding corpse, but even with my young mind, I knew it was wrong to drink from her.

Even at a young age, I felt the need to kill. I had the near uncontrollable urge to destroy. There was a primal feeling within me that called upon the slaughter of defenceless townspeople. To suck them dry. All this murder and death, just to quench the unending burning in my throat.

Luckily for me, there were no villages or people near where I was born. My mother was smart to give birth to me so far out from the reaches of humanity. At this point, I was still fairly clueless to who I was.

Like any newborn child, I was not strong. Although I was smarter and stronger than the average young child, all I could do was cry. I'm ashamed to admit that I had to crawl away from my mother's body. I didn't even try to bury her.

There was no one explaining what I was. I knew my name. My mother crooned stories to me, which I heard dutifully in the womb, but there was no more information I could use. Somehow, I saw blurry pictures and I realised early that they were memories or thoughts from her mind. She showed me the world and it was beautiful. However, she deserved the beauty, not I, yet I was the one that survived.

Before I could get too far, I was enveloped into a cold embrace, which made me squeal. I was young and afraid. Looking up, I saw a pale man who was somehow vaguely familiar to me. His eyes were as red as fire and he had hair as black as shadows. Ice cold skin that was somehow a pale tanned colour. The stranger was frightening and yet kin to me.

Not many people can say they remember seeing their father for the first time. I could.

But it would be a while before he explained that and so much more.

*******

Several times, I tried squirming out of his grip, but to no avail. He was so much stronger than me. Grunting, I kicked him in the chest. All that I seemed to do was make him flinch. Otherwise, he didn't break from his incredibly fast paced stride. My heartbeat was going super fast, but in a strange way, I wasn't afraid of the speed. I revelled in it.

We only stopped when we reached a cave. Inside we went, and I soon found out that looks were deceiving. It looked nothing like a cave from the insides. There were signs of additional comfort everywhere. Scowling, and terribly confused, I looked at the person who brought me here.

That was when he began to explain everything.

Several times, I felt the gag reflex threaten to cause my empty stomach to heave out bile. Or at least, what I thought resembled bile.

He was a vampire. The disgusting monster drank human blood. And the devil himself was my father.

Now that my eyes were opened to the revelation, I could tell that there were similarities between us. The brow line, our noses and even my bone structure seemed to be taken from him. All of a sudden, I felt dirtier than anything. Even before, when I was covered in dirt and blood, I felt cleaner than I did now. But I knew no amount of scrubbing would get me clean.

A small part of my brain was happy to note that I had inherited traits from my mother. The brown curly hair and the brown eyes, I had been all from her genes. I was not pure evil.

The man – I hated to think of him as my father in any sense of the word – explained what a vampire was in such a monotone, like it didn't matter. After that disgusting, yet informative speech, he explained how he wanted to create a new breed.

Apparently he seduced my mother with the intents of creating me. What was possibly worse was the knowledge that he went through this procedure several times, and there were no survivors – for the mother or child. I was the only one. That thought alone made me cringe. Afterwards, a great surge of anger flowed through me. How could he have done that to someone? Pretend to love them and then leave them to die?

I was the light and the darkness brought together in one. Half vampire. Half human. Apparently I was the first of my kind. The monster expected me to join him and readily undergo tests.

There was a part of me – a very strong part of me – who wanted nothing more than to spit in his face and kill him. But I was born with brains and I knew that it would be effortless for him to kill me. I was still too weak.

So I pretended. I called him 'daddy'. Once, I had asked for his real name, but all he said was that I had no need for it. Later I learned that he didn't want to be caught by the Volturi. The Volturi controlled the world of vampires and kept everything in order and I was told that such an "experiment" as I was, would surely cause the destruction of the both of us.

I did the tests, but this was more for my benefit, rather than his. There was such a blurry future on my part and I needed information. Almost everything he asked I did. The only thing I rebelled against was his command for me to drink the blood of people.

Early in my life, I learned that animals sustained me and there was no need for human blood. It was so lucky that that panther crossed my path, early in my childhood. I was close to succumbing to the raking burn that inflamed my throat.

This upset him slightly, but then he just assumed that it was all coming down to the sub-species effect. All I did was nod and smile blandly at him. Once, after I begged and begged, I got him to taste animal blood, to give it a try, but he spat it out and declared it disgusting. He didn't even try it properly!

Every time he went out to 'eat', I died a little more on the inside. I couldn't stop him; I was too weak. Everything he did made me hate him that little bit more.

There was so much I wanted to do to him. Rip him from limb to limb and burn the pieces to ashes…

My father called me Isabella and effectively killed all the love I had for the name. My mother – who my father didn't even bother to learn the name of – gave me such a beautiful name. Now I hated it.

Years passed and I still played my role. Waiting for the strength to grow so I could kill him. Occasionally, I visited the place where my mother died and placed flowers there. The body was gone by the time I visited after I met the incarnation of evil, but the place was still very symbolic to me.

Growing at such a rapid rate was worrying both him and me. But after seven years, I stopped growing. Weeks passed and I was still the same height and weight. This was the sign that it was time to kill the man that never ever got a place in my heart.

The only thing he was to me was a murderer, a scientist and a teacher. I had no respect for him. He killed my mother; he did tests on me and forced an incredible amount of information down my throat with expectations that I would follow in his footsteps one day. The day he said that, I nearly set alight with hate and anger.

He honestly expected me to create an army of monsters? Did he not notice how I stopped him from ever doing what he did to my mother to another human being?

The first day he tried to go out and seduce another human female, I found my ability. My personality was apparently very magnetic and then and there I realised that I could make people stay were I wanted them to or make them go away. Like polar opposites. I made him stay, his feet sticking to the floor as though he was chained.

Years later, I learned I could deflect mental assaults too. Not a shield, per se. More in the idea that if a magnet represented the mental ability, my shield would in turn become the opposite of it and deflect it from me. Polar opposites.

But this was not enough of an ability to kill him yet.

Key word: _yet_.

*******

Finally, I was eight years old and I resembled a nineteen-year-old human being, with the additional benefits of being as incredibly strong as a vampire with heightened senses to match. My father had lost his value. I had learned all I needed to learn.

My father had no clue that I was about to kill him. But I made it painful enough that he would surely feel the fires in his next life.

Then, when there was nothing left but a pile of ashes, I burned the entire contents of the cave to dust. Satisfied in a hollow sort of way, I turned on my heel and made my way into a new life.

It was a while though, before I realised that killing vampires was an area of expertise for me.

*******

My life was pretty much meaningless for about a few decades. There wasn't too much I could do. A lot of the times I did volunteer work, and donated as much as I could, but I never could never really make a big difference as I had to constantly move around to avoid getting asked awkward questions about my age and lack of caregivers.

Usually, I pretended to be around nineteen or twenty, although if I really wanted to, I could pass for younger. But I did not want to attend high school after I went through it for the third time with flying colours.

At this point, I was lonely and bored. In fact, I was reasonably a bit depressed.

Then inspiration for my life came in the form of a fiery little redheaded vampire.

I was walking in the forest, trying to pass the time before the sun could come back up and I could volunteer at the homeless shelter again. Screams rent the air and automatically, my head whipped around towards the sound.

A girl, about fifteen years old, was running for her life as a vampire chased her. The girl would have been fairly pretty, if it were not for the tear tracks running down her cheeks and her blotchy face. The unknown female vampire pursuing her had hair as red as the eyes of a newborn vampire.

I could tell she was messing with the human child. If it were her wish for the child to experience a quick death, she would be dead by now. The vampire was playing around with her. Torturing her before she kills her.

The child was small, pixie-like, with long raven black hair. The vampire was a stark comparison. She was sharp, angular. Evil.

She flared my instincts to protect the girl. So I grabbed the redhead around the throat and screamed at the girl to run. If it was not for my heightened hearing, I would have missed the gentle 'thank-you' she said before she ran away.

Killing the vampire was easy. She put up barely a fight compared to me.

But there was something different. Over my life, I had saved people by killing vampires before, but somehow this time was different. Was it the quiet 'thank-you' I heard?

Vampires always underestimated me, so it was incredibly easy to kill them.

And by killing them, I saved humans.

As I watched the sun rise, I had my epiphany. I was going to rid the world of vampires. Even if it took all eternity.

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**A/N: What do you think about it? I don't want it to be like other "Bella - Vampire Slayer" stories, and I am trying my hardest to make it unique.**

**I made a banner for this and it's visible on my profile. Check it out. :-)**

**Reviews, critism, flames, and suggestions are all appreciated a lot. I PROMISE to take the time to respond to every PM or review I get!  
Personally, I always think my first chapters are my weakest.**

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	2. Fresh Start

**A/N: Thanks for all the wonderful feedback people! Read and enjoy the fruits of my labour! *Waves*.**

**Disclaimer: Twilight and all relating materials are obviously owned the infamous Stephenie Meyer. *Face palm*. Duh.**

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**Chapter Two.**

_L'Angelo Della Morte_

_A killer of the most dangerous kind is seemingly roaming the vampire community and killing all in its wake. She is no more than a shadow for our best hunters and trackers. We know nearly nothing about her – she kills all vampire witnesses – but thanks to one human she carelessly left alive, we know that she looks like a young human girl. But we also know for sure that she isn't one. Her skills and strengths surpass any human with ease. The death toll is climbing. So now we are releasing a bounty for her body – dead or alive. The threat must be eliminated._

When I read the sign reporting my nickname and the price of my body, I just snorted. Who do these vampires – the Volturi – think they are to try and get other vampires to kill me? I could take them all on. In fact, this would make my job easier. Having the prey come to me instead of boring tracking would be rather beneficial.

Re-reading, I noticed they got a few things right. Yep, I wasn't human. What human could kill a vampire with their bare hands? But I sure did pass for a teenage girl.

And all vampire witnesses obviously had to be eliminated. That was an easy, obvious thing to figure out. I nearly regretted leaving that one human alive. But I didn't. I have never killed a human before. And hopefully I never would.

Many people would argue that a wanted poster wouldn't be a cause for celebration. I had to disagree. This was proof that I worried them. Proof that I was now classified as a serious threat. I was someone to be approached with caution. It told me I was someone to be respected and feared. Exactly what I wanted.

_L'Angelo Della Morte_. I mused over the title they gave me. It was Italian for _The_ _Angel Of Death_.

It was strangely fitting for me.

*******

I had gotten the poster from a nomad seemingly intent on killing me. At first, I found it odd that he continually pursued my death; even after I showed myself to be stronger than he was. He proved no competition, and I ended his petty existence with ease. Luckily for me, this precious piece of paper flew out of his pocket and explained things for me.

I never went through pockets before I set the fire, so it would have been lost. Luck was certainly on my side today.

A part of me mused whether, in desperation, the Volturi sent a flyer to every coven and nomad in the world – something that was certainly no easy feat.

They really must have wanted my head. I laughed at the thought. Hundreds, maybe thousands of vampires thought they could break me. Not a single vampire has ever walked away from me after a fight. Just the way I want it to be.

There would be no spilling of innocent blood on my watch.

Sighing, I glanced around the shaded forest, my ears concentrating to see if I could hear anything out of the norm. Since I couldn't, I relaxed and headed on home, running as fast – if not faster – than the wind.

It was time for me to move. People were getting suspicious. It was hard for me to pull off 23 and I was asking for people to believe I was 25. There was nothing holding me here – no worthwhile job, no good friends, and certainly no family or coven. I wouldn't miss it in the least. In fact, the only truly defining characteristics this place will hold for me was the beauty of the surrounding forest.

But all trees start to look the same after a couple decades or so of monotonous life. A rather depressing thought on the whole. I've barely been alive for a century and a half and my life was feeling extremely dull.

Maybe I took life for granted because I had no reason to live. Sure, I mean, my goal to eliminate as many vampires as possible was important for humans, but for me, I was still unsure if that was the full reason for my actions. Was I sub-consciously punishing all of vampire-kind for the actions of my father?

Perhaps… But there was always the fact that they loved to suck humans dry was another motive for me to murder them.

With a jolt of surprise, I saw that I had arrived home already. Running to my room, I let my mind wander once more.

_Home_…

The word held no true meaning for me. I had no home. _Home is where the heart is. _Isn'tthat the corny old saying? Well, I had no love and I had no heart. The only one I ever loved was my mother. And I didn't even know her name.

Worst of all, she was dead thanks to me. Her light was gone and it was my fault. I could never forgive myself. It was during times like this when I truly hated my life.

No, it wasn't a life. Life had meaning. I was merely existing, the goal of killing vampires keeping me within the reaches of sanity and away from boredom.

I was … tired, for lack of a better description. There hadn't been peace in my life since I could remember. And I could remember nearly every moment of my life.

My only freedom and escape from the torture of reality was sleep. Dreams that make me wonder; they make me laugh and want to sing. They are real, and at the same time they are not. Surreal would be one word to describe them. Yet, when I wake, they all disappear. Sometimes I wish I could sleep for days on end.

But I can't. My one weakness is sleep. During it, I can feel nothing, I can see nothing, I can hear nothing and I can smell nothing when I am submerged in the murky world of dreams.

Nearly ironic – as though a higher force was playing with me – the only time I feel anything close to happiness, is the one time I could die. Sometimes I wonder whether if I died in my sleep, whether I would dream forever.

Secretly, I wished that would happen.

But my instincts knew better. Suicide would never be a choice for me. I had to save humans from vampires. Yet, nothing else was tying me to this world.

Sighing heavily, I leant against the back of the couch I was currently residing in.

With a bounty over my head, I would have to go nomadic for a couple of decades. There was no way I would threaten the existence of humans. If they learned the name of a town I lived in, they would massacre it without a second thought. Just to find me. And there was no way I was going to let that happen.

Quickly, I darted around the apartment, gathering basic necessities. Money, change in clothes, an additional pair of shoes, a loaf of bread and a lump of cheese (human food was not fully needed, but I could survive on it if wildlife is scarce) were all haphazardly chucked into a worn leather waterproof backpack. I didn't need any documents; all of which were forged easily enough.

My phone weighed down my jacket pocket and I threw the charger for it into the bag as well. Patting my right jean pocket, I felt the reassuring outline of my lighter, and I racked my brain to see if I needed anything else.

I decided another source of fire would be best, so I threw in a large packet of matches. The only other things I added was a small pot – in the rare case I wanted to cook something – a slightly bent fork and spoon, and some rope. I found that rope was always helpful. Finally, I shoved a smaller bag of toiletries into the big bag and closed it.

Rummaging through the bedside table drawers, I got out my army standard bright red pocketknife. It was good to pick locks and cut things up when I didn't want to use my nails or teeth. De-scaling fish with nails was not a very good experience. So I put it securely in my pocket, nestled next to my lighter.

The lighter I owned was one of those special ones; that don't blow out, even in the middle of a tornado. I thought it was amazing, and I couldn't believe it when it was still burning underwater too. It was very handy if I needed to set vampires on fire during a rainstorm or a windy day.

Stretching, I looked at the clock and saw it was nearly sundown. My timing was nearly perfect. Hurrying now, I closed off all loose ends in my life. It took time to cancel credit cards and donate the money to charity, but it was worth it. There was not too much need for me to have an extensive amount of money.

With a single call, I told the landlord that I was vacating the premises. He was angry at first that I gave no warning, but I told him that the six months rent I paid in advance, he could keep. Which brightened his mood incredibly.

There was no furniture or electronic gizmos I wanted to take with me. But it wasn't like I had adorned this place with anything special. Bed, couch, fridge, television, stove. Rather mundane, low quality items.

Most of my time was spent volunteering in shelters or hunting vampires. Like I said, this place wasn't really home to me, and I made no attempt to make it feel like one. No paintings, photos or trinkets adorned the bare walls or shelves. There was no need for such things.

Shoving my keys in a blank envelope and leaving them on the kitchen tabletop, I left with my bag and without a second glance.

*******

I was riding on the train, wondering where I was going to head for. Having a destination was better than aimlessly wandering around the United States. A pregnant lady headed my way, and as the train was packed, I respectfully got out of my seat and offered it to her. She sent me a grateful smile which I returned as she sat down with a tired sigh.

Being so close to so many people was causing a dim burn to flare in my neck, but I paid it no mind. My concentration was unparallel. Someone could be bleeding profusely and I would be able to resist. Ignoring it entirely was still a feat I could not do. The scent of human blood still grabbed my attention. It would certainly be harder if I hadn't recently hunted.

My eyes darted up to the worn leather strap my hand was holding onto above my head. It was dirty as the floor, but I couldn't care less. Holding onto it held no benefit on my part, but it was all a part of the charade.

_All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players._

Shakespeare had it right there. My life, the face the world saw was all lies; carefully constructed lies that piled on top of one another with surprising ease.

Which reminded me; I had to change my name again now that I was moving. For sentimental reasons, I usually kept the use of my first name, but I played around with my last name constantly. Nothing seemed to fit me.

Before I decided to move, I was known as Bella Miller. She was dead to the world now. I was going to be reborn – figuratively – as someone new.

Nothing came to mind that I hadn't used before. A century and a bit of life with an immeasurable amount of alias would do that to you. My gaze wandered up to graffiti-covered advertisements lining the walls. They were hard to see as people blocked them.

The train suddenly stopped at a station and a swarm of people were filtering out. Though the bodies attempted to jostle me out of position, I held steady. In that moment, I got a glimpse of a picture – presumably for an advertisement trying to sell land – and it was a pond surrounded by forest. And in the middle of the pond was a single white swan. It was beautiful and elegant.

Then I remembered that my name meant 'beautiful' in Italian.

Chuckling to myself, I realised that I now knew what my new name was going to be.

Beautiful Swan. What a fitting name.

*******

There was quiet here. I appreciated quiet. Libraries were something like a refuge. They offered silence and books.

Books were magic in their own right. With simple words, you can be transported to another world. One where the good guys always wins. Where the boy gets the girl and vice versa. They were wonderful. They were amazing. They were lies. They were falsehoods that raised hopes of the young and ignorant.

The world is always so much harder than the books say. Even the most complex plots have nothing on the muddle that 21st century life was. Damn, I missed the late 18th century at times. Things were easier. Yet at the same time, it was harder.

Life was hard. I knew that. Really, I should stop dwelling on it.

This trip to the library was just a pit stop. It was some down time to relax. Not even an hour after I parted from the train and entered the forest, two vampires attacked me; they were ganging up on me. It was a fruitless attempt, but vaguely valiant, nonetheless.

Ripping them limb from limb gave me the equivalent of a weak adrenaline rush in a human. But I never really felt alive. Even when I was killing others, I felt dead inside.

I had to wash in the nearby river to get rid of the smell of cooked vampires. My clothes were saturated with the scent, and even though I washed them as best as I could, it didn't work. I never leave a trail – except for one of bodies (or burning piles of them at the very least) – so I burned my clothes and headed onwards.

And that was how I arrived at the library.

Glancing around, I decided that I was tired of reading for now and I headed onto a spare computer. It took seconds for inspiration to come on what to seek. Using the oh-so reliable_ Google_, I typed in, '_rainiest place in the U.S._'

If I was going to run somewhere, I should go hide out where plenty of unsuspecting vampires hid out. That way, I could work and stay safe from the more dangerous hunters. I feared not for my life, but for the lives of humans that surrounded me.

The Internet here was agonisingly slow to load. Time was of the essence here!

With a dull beeping noise, it told me what I needed to know. Smiling, I printed out a map. It was a simple directory telling me how to get to Forks, Washington State.

The place sounded like a perfect vampire ground – dark, cloudy, and lots of forests to trap unknowing hikers for lunch. Perfectly disturbing. Oddly fitting.

Bonus for me – there was plenty of wildlife. It was all mostly large game too. Yummy. I would hunt as soon as I arrived. Unless a larger, more dangerous type of game wanted to fight first...

*******

**A/N: So, please tell me what you think! Cullen's will be making an appearance shortly, but patience will be needed. Never rush genius. *Laughs*.**

**And yeah, Bella is really quite the depressing little gal, ain't she? **

**Cookies with choc chips for reading! But you get muffins with every review! :-)**


	3. Running Away

**A/N: Hiya there from a very content _Tellytubby101_ ! I am estatic to the amount of support I am recieving for this story! Read and enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: The Twilight Saga is not owned by me. I make no profit from this. But wouldn't it be grand if I did? *Sigh*.**

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**Chapter Three.**

Running. Fighting. Trying to survive. That was all I seemed to do of late. The library was the last time I felt anything resembling rest.

But finally, I had some time to hunt. It had been _so_ long, and people were beginning to look doubly tempting for me.

Something I had to avoid at all costs.

Heartbeats sounded louder, wetter, more enticing than ever. Which was dangerous for all parties. Venom continually pooled in my mouth and no matter how many times I swallowed, the sting within my throat still flared. But the warm animal blood soothed the ragged burning, and my control was now back in full force. Also, I was granted with a bit of a recharge on my batteries.

Before, there just wasn't the time to hunt, so I had to begin holding my breath around humans in a vain attempt to stop myself from lashing out and attacking them.

So it was a relief to find a reprieve in my busy life and find the time for a little meal of my own. Bread and cheese held me for a while, but I still needed the fresh warm blood of an animal.

The beasts here were rather big, and fun game to hunt. I made their deaths quick and swift. No need for needless suffering.

Angel Of Death. L'Angelo Della Morte. I thought about my name again. Not only did it sound rather ominous, I found that it actually suited me. Whether I was a superhero or a villain, I was still unsure of, but I thought that it would be a pretty good name to have nonetheless.

I guess vampires didn't screw up everything.

Death followed me whether I wanted it to or not. After all, I survived by ending the lives of other sentient creatures.

Was my existence worth it?

Depending on my mood, the answer would change. If I indirectly put someone innocent at risk, I would say not. After I killed a vampire, I would try justifying my life with their deaths. _I killed them so people could live._

Humans amused me and amazed me. They were all little troopers. Insanely paranoid and curious things, traits which I found enduring. Persistent as hell and always discovering, looking for answers.

They fought amongst themselves, sometimes for a good cause, other times for no reason. They destroyed the environment, yet sought to fix it. Humans fell in and out of love, and had such imaginations.

Fascination, disgust, amusement and admiration were all called upon when I observed them. There was a reason I enjoyed studying anthropology in all my school years.

Even with my great age, I still saw things that humans would do that made me feel small in comparison.

Fire fighters risking their lives, doctors saving people with a needle and thread, poems and artwork all created from the human imagination. They wrote songs that could capture the soul, and written works that could transport someone to another world.

Because that's what the human race were like. They did things outside the box and created new things jus because they could.

And that was why I protected them. And why I was proud to hold some of their genes. They were the light. Vampires were the darkness.

Only a mixture of both – someone that held knowledge of the inside workings of both – would be able to take down the dark. I was that someone. I was the _only_ someone.

They were the children that needed an adult to hide them from the evil of the world. I was that protector.

Humanity was a reason I was here. I was to look after them and defend them.

I just forgot every few decades. Every now and then, I would see something so horrible caused be people, I wondered why I looked out for them.

But then something unique and wonderful they made grabs my attention and I would remember.

*******

There was a light mist falling softly around me, making the surroundings look positively surreal. Moonlight filtered through the forest, setting the scene for an eerie horror story.

Ha, my life _was_ a horror story. There was no room for a fairytale ending for me. The real question was; was I the heroine, or was I one of the bad guys?

Wiping the animal blood away from my mouth with my ragged sleeve, a wave of fatigue suddenly made my knees buckle. I was tired, more than that actually, I was dead on my feet and drained of energy.

Days have passed since I had slept. Right, left, up, down, I was getting attacked. The only fortunate thing was they hunted in very small numbers, making the task easy. There were only so many vampires I could immobilise at any one time. Not surprisingly though, the vampires were using the saying, "Every man for himself."

Ripping them limb from limb always gave off a satisfactory screeching metallic noise, that I recalled used to annoy me. Now it was like birds singing. Oddly fulfilling sounds that were a part of my everyday life. But more and more often, I've been hearing that sound. I've killed more in the past two weeks, than I have in a month.

Somehow, I don't know whether to be proud or disgusted.

Vampires were taking the offer by the Volturi seriously. The prize was worthy of the danger; or so they thought. Vampires don't need money. No, no. What was being offered was so much more than that.

_Power. _

They are offering a rank among the Volturi leaders. To actually become part of the vampire royalty.

To offer such a prize meant that I was definitely on the top of the list of people that needed to die. The thought nearly brought a smile to my face, but I was just too tired.

A dozen attacking vampires have kept me wary on my feet. They hunted usually in groups of two or three. There was one very close call. But it was nothing that I couldn't handle. But the effort was being to show. I was being drained. And not in the way vampires are famous for.

Admittedly, drinking animal blood revitalised me a bit, however sleep would work best. Even the escape of sleep wasn't tempting enough to put my life on the line during this risky time.

But I was _so_ weary…

No. I can't sleep. Not just yet. Too much danger follows me.

My clothes were ragged and dirty. They held a faint smell of vampire, but nothing to cause suspicion from a passer-by. It merely smelt as though I rubbed up against one accidentally. When in reality, I had been wrestling them and burning them to no more than dust. I didn't want to throw all my clothes away, so I put more effort in washing these than the other ones.

My shoes were being worn down with running, so I had decided while I was alone; I would keep them in my bag in an effort to preserve them. After all, my feet were stronger than marble and I doubted any sticks or stones piercing the skin and hurting me.

Kneeling against the ground, I splashed my face with water from the river before me. The water was rather slow moving, and the moonlight bounced off it. It was beautiful. A swim, a bath, seemed so tempting, but I couldn't stop. I had to hide. Hide now and hunt later.

Though I could kill vampires, I still needed time to recharge my batteries. Unlike the vampires that now hunted me.

Ironically, it seems as though I was being hunted. Yes, I was the hunter, yet I was getting stalked as though I was idle prey. Their efforts were futile. I was like the seemingly weak little lamb that overpowered the stalking lion. Yes, it was easier to kill them when they came to me, but I couldn't control _when_ they would.

And there in lay the problem.

With so many distractions, it took longer – much longer – than originally planned to get to Forks. But I was here.

In the sparse few hours where I was free from attack, I was busy arranging the correct documents (in case any human came sniffing) and hacked into the correct government sites to make me an official person. All of which was routine and easy enough.

Born again as Isabella Swan.

My middle name was going to be Marie. I normally used it because a few decades ago, I came across a young girl called Marie, and I didn't get to her in time. I didn't save her. Though I killed the vampires, Marie was lost. So she would live on forever through me. I felt worthless because I couldn't save her. But eventually, I learned to deal with the pain.

Pushing away the bad memories threatening to bubble to the surface, I thought about my new identity, getting a feel for it.

So Isabella Marie Swan. Preferably Bella. Isabella would be forever scarred thanks to my father. But Bella, I could still call a legacy my mother passed on to me. When it came to my surname though, she mumbled that my father should give it to me. He gave me a surname all right. But I would rather die a terrible death rather than use his name and pass on his unworthy legacy.

_Dwyer_. I sneered at the thought of the name _he_ gave me. I doubted it was even his true name, but I would never accept it as my own.

So with every new 'life', came with me a new identity.

It was a wonder – what with me being 'reborn' so many times – that I had no belief in re-incarnation. Actually, I had no faith any religion for that matter.

I cannot accept the idea of an all-powerful being that loves and cares for us when there are creatures like vampires running free. Darkness belonged in the pits of hell, and if there was a higher power, He or She should've done a better job of locking them up.

So my choices came down to; there was no God, there was a God – but they were powerful and uncaring, or there was a God – caring but weak. None of them sounded appealing, so I went with the first one.

Looking down at my reflection in the now still water, I traced the new crescent shaped bite mark on my cheek. I hated getting scars, but venom did that to me whether I wanted it to or not. I healed fast, but the burning venom left scars. The skin was now slightly paler, slightly colder than the rest of my body and it was raised with a very minor bump.

The scars and marks dotting my arms – wrists especially – my ankles, my neck and face was one of the reasons I was attracting so many vampires. Though humans, with their ignorant eyes, cannot see the marks with ease, vampires can.

One bite mark would cause suspicion, and therefore so many were like having a bright light above my head. Hiding the ones on my arms, neck and legs was easy enough. But the new one on my cheek would require make-up – something I didn't have enough patience to put on.

I was not a 'girly' girl. Though I was born in the time where ladies were meant to be docile and fair, I had always been hardheaded and independent. Call it an outcome of my upbringing if you will. But the times sort of grew up into my nature and the prejudices were slowly going. A small perk of immortality, I guess.

Another reason so many immortals were targeting me was the fact I was a young, apparently helpless girl, travelling alone in the woods. In the eyes of a bloodsucker, I was a perfect target for an easy meal.

But the main reason I was so often tracked was my unusual scent. My father, the disgusting bloodsucker he was, said it was as though I was an incredibly sweet scented human, with an icy undercurrent.

In other words, I smelled delicious.

I guess it was perfect for me. I was the bait and the trap all neatly bundled into one convenient package. Like the Angler Fish attracting the other fish with pretty neon lights. However, I used scent instead of sight to lure. It was quite an effective luring tactic overall.

With fresh vampire venom running through my system, it was a little like adrenaline for a human. But soon enough it would wear off and I would succumb to sleep.

Jogging lightly around the deserted forest region, I crinkled my nose against the weak smell of vampire in the air. The scent suggested they passed through here more than a week ago. I doubted that they would return anytime soon, (nomads tended to move quickly from place to place), so for now, I was safe to camp here. Perhaps I would not sleep under the stars in the open, but definitely not in a cave. Funnily enough, bats gave me the creeps.

After an hour of searching for the perfect sleeping place, I found it. It was in the base of a massive tree, a hollowed out space that had enough room for two of me. Yet it was hidden from plain sight and the entrance was covered and tiny. Sheer luck let me find it.

Yawning, I shoved my bag in first, and then I wriggled my way inside.

The place was dry enough, a surprising find considering the near constant rain from outside. Dirt mingled with grass and weeds littered the floor and there was a small pile of animal bones in the corner. Evidence suggested the place used to be an animal den, most likely a carnivore. The damp air was devoid of any strong animal scent suggesting that this area was vacated a while ago.

I spent a little time clearing the space out, getting rid of the sparse weeds and bones. But other than that, I made no move to change anything. The fatigue I was facing was growing worse and worse.

Using my bag as a pillow, I sighed tiredly in contentment and fell into a deep sleep.

If only I knew then what I knew now: that when I woke, things would get complicated on so many levels.

*******

**A/N: Cullen's are up next! Your patience with me shall pay off... Please tell me what you think, even though this chapter was mainly a filler.**

**Since this story is still a young baby, yet to be fully developed, suggestions would be appreciated so much! :-)**

**Muffins for reading! But if you want another chapter, review review review. After all, a lot of reviews make me happy and when I'm happy, I write. Are you getting the hint?**


	4. Waking Up

**A/N: Y'all are being so supportive of this story and I really like that! Seriously, all those comments and reviews make me smile... and grin... and chuckle randomly... which is causing my parents to look at me funnily. :-)**

**This story I intend to concentrate only on BPOV, so some bits and pieces won't make sense, as the story will be tinged with her prejudices and sometimes she won't get the full picture. So patience and understanding will be needed to flesh out sections. Though I wouldn't mind hearing your theories on what you think should or could happen.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight and intend for no copywrite infringement to occur. Pfft, but the idea of me owning Twilight is dumb. *Shakes head*.**

*******

**Chapter Four.**

Sleeping enabled the usual darkness to cover me. But somehow, things were different in my dreams. This dream was different that other dreams. Usually my dreams are nice; which was why I called them an escape.

_~Dream~_

I was in a dark place and the edges of my vision were blurred. Echoing screams could be heard, but I never saw the people yelling. Soft muted voices were just out of my range of hearing. Like in the cartoon Peanuts with Snoopy the dog, none of the children could hear the adults. I was a child trying to hear the dull noises of the adults. It wasn't working. My stomach hurt and I wanted to leave.

What the hell was going on?

My nose burned and my eyes watered. There was no one else with me. In that second, I was alone. Now the silence was more deafening than the babble of noises from before. The thought made my head hurt. Suddenly I was very cold. As though someone stabbed me with daggers of ice. Pain stabbed up my spine and I was having trouble concentrating.

Though I couldn't be sure, I thought I saw the shadows of people wandering around me. Sometimes I called upon them for help or directions, but they ignored me. They passed by me like I didn't exist.

And that's when it hit me. This was no dream. It was a nightmare.

_~End Dream~_

With a start, I woke up panting heavily. I felt like I had been running for days. My chest heaved and I blinked in rapid recession, trying to fan away the cobwebs of sleep. If I could sweat, I had no doubt I would be drenched in it. Thankfully, the sleep refreshed me somewhat, but the nightmare was disconcerting.

With a sigh, I buried my face into the soft pillow and attempted to sleep again.

_Wait, what?_

_Pillow?_

In an instant, I sat up fully, my heartbeat accelerating as I took in my surroundings. I was in a room – not my little tree hollow, but a serious bedroom – that was quite plain. It was painted in neutral tones and there were sparse amounts of décor. Basically, it contained a bed and a painting of a vase of flowers on the wall. Turning my head, I noticed a very small dresser and next to that was my backpack. Moonlight shone softly through the closed window.

Sighing in relief at the stark simpleness of the room, which appeared safe enough for now, I inhaled some air, only to blanch at the smell. The room was drenched in the scent of _vampires_. What the hell was I doing in the room of a vampire? Actually, it seemed like there were multiple vampires, judging by the sheer number of different scents.

On a side note, the smell explained the nightmare. Being drenched with the scent of a deadly creature of the night, something you associate with death and or misery, a scent you are highly unfamiliar with, does that to you. Which was why I always tried to shower after I had exterminated a vampire or two.

My skin was drenched in particular with the scent of one or two of them; it seems they chose to carry me here. The scent burned my nose a bit with an icy tinge to the scent. Argh, this would definitely annoy me again later. As soon as possible, I needed to shower.

I was in enemy territory and I was considering the next time I would shower? If the situation were not so dire, I would shake my head at myself, and laugh at my erratic thought patterns.

Trying to calm down, I breathed in slowly and separated each smell in an effort to see how many of these creatures I was up against; I was startled to learn that there were at least seven different scents here, all of them relatively fresh.

Damn it. _Seven_? What coven consists of that many vampires? Unless… They might have banded together to finally get me. The thought made a little sense anyway.

It seems the bloody Volturi had got me. Sighing, my shoulders slumped and I thought about it. I knew it would have to happen sometime. In a way, I should be grateful I was free for so long. Maybe I could bring a handful of other vampires down with me before I was killed or forced to submit.

Taking a deep breath of the air, while wondering if Italian air smelled any different, I realised that I could still detect the gentle scent of rainwater and moist moss that I thought felt unique to Forks.

With a grin, I discovered that I was still in Forks. Escaping would be easier if I wasn't in Italy. Even though there were a tonne of vampires there, I knew it would be suicide to try and attack vampires there. Having the advantage of a home ground was easily the difference between life and death. Scanning the room again, I looked at the window as the prime option for escape.

But then again, there may be a trap at the bottom of it. What an idiotic group of vampires. Surely if they were trying to properly hold me, they'd put me in a basement or something.

Cursing my need to sleep under my breath, I strained my ears to hear if there were any guards. I was hoping that maybe I was lucky enough to wake alone. My hopes were crushed when I heard a babble of voices from below. The sounds alone made my heart leapt into my chest.

Quick as anything, I leapt out of the bed and was relieved to see I was still in my clothes. For a second I feared they might have done things to me when I slept. Like, I don't know ... experiments?

The Volturi wouldn't consider that a breach of humanitarian rights; well, because I was not exactly human. Still, I didn't want to experience some creepy-as Hannibal Lecter murder victim experiences. Like, getting dropped in a vat of Formalin would _not_ be fun. Sure, I mean it wouldn't kill me, but I highly doubted it would be a walk in the park for me either.

Grabbing my backpack, I quickly ruffled through it, relieved to find that no one went though it; I could smell no other scent permeating the clothes, nor could I see any signs of something getting misplaced. With one swift motion, I pulled the bag over my bag and I quickly walked to the window and pried it open.

The thing was unlocked, but even if it weren't, I'd probably just rip it from its frame. At least this way it was quieter. Sticking my head out, I saw no-one standing beneath the window or anywhere near it. The window was on the second story, so maybe that was the reason for the lack of guards. They probably assumed that being a little high up would stop me. Yeah, right.

Taking a split second to breathe in the fresh air, I realized that it had taken me less than a minute to wake up and take action. Which was rather surprising, I thought. If left to my own accords, it would usually take me hours to wake up and do stuff.

As I was about to jump out of the window – one foot was outside already – the door swung open, and in a knee-jerk reaction, my head snapped around and I felt like a deer caught in the headlights. The vampire was tall, blond and as pale as a sheet. Typical vampire. He was good looking for a human, I guess, but all I saw was a murderer. A murderer with a comically surprised expression, that is.

Strangely enough, I wanted to laugh, but unfortunately this was neither the time nor the place.

Using my power, I froze him to the spot and made him feel repellent to me. Though he did not move backwards, I saw him cringe on the spot. "What are you doing, child?" he asked hurriedly. His voice was smooth, quiet and velvety – enticing to a human of course. He was holding his hands out in a gesture to show he wasn't a threat to me.

Yeah, right. I wasn't some ignorant person. He was stronger and faster than what was natural. And he was trying to convey that he wasn't dangerous to me at all. The irony of the thought nearly made me roll my eyes. I was dangerous to him. He should be thanking his lucky stars that he had a lot of back up.

"You ask me what I'm doing? Ha, asks the person who _kidnapped_ me. Well, I don't want to die yet thank you very much. So goodbye!" I said sardonically to him, with a mock tilt of my head.

Then I jumped out of the window.

With a roll, I pulled off the leapt gracefully, and dusted off my pants. The jump was disappointedly short and wasn't even worth wasting air with a scream. Hearing a shocked gasp, I looked up to see the male vampire looking down at me from the window, his eyes were wide and his face sparkled mutely in the moonlight.

Winking at him, I waved sarcastically in his direction and then I began to run.

My speed did not have to be hindered in the slightest; there were no witnesses apart from the vampires I was leaving. A sudden thought stuck me; now the Volturi would have a memory, a description of me that they can use to find me! Aro could easily pull my image out of the blond man.

So I would have to stay and pick them off one by one. Leaving the human alive was different. Never will I hunt and kill a mortal. But immortals? They were a different matter entirely. A sinister grin made its way onto my face as I realised that this little trip wouldn't be a total waste of time after all.

Before I could rush back in there and kill everybody like I was planning to do, I had to get some information. _Time spent in reconnaissance was seldom wasted_. It was a saying I read in a book once and it stuck with me. So getting some information on this coven would go a long way. Things I would need to know were the numbers I was facing, their strengths and their weaknesses, and maybe other random bits about the landscape.

The air whipped past my face and I barely registered the babble of voices that was growing from behind me. Chancing a glance behind me, I noticed that there was only one vampire pursuing me.

From the brief glance I stole, all I noticed was that that his head was topped with a pile of messy bronze hair and that he had an arrogant, impatient expression on his face, as though catching me would be an easy feat.

He was fast. But I was faster.

If no one else were pursuing him, then I would take him down with ease. A faint pressure on my leg informed me that my lighter was still in my pocket. Thank God for that. It was one of the few materialistic items I truly cherished and to lose it would be annoying beyond belief.

With a sudden burst of speed, I ran further east, only stopping when I realised that I wasn't being pursued anymore. Though I considered the chances that this might be a ploy, a trick, or a trap of sorts was high, my persistent curiosity caused me to turn around and look at where this unnamed vampire had went.

To my surprise, he was about a hundred feet behind me, staring at me with a dark expression, and one of _fear_? The fear seemingly wasn't directed at me, but at the dirt patch in between us. Impatient as always, I didn't bother to think about why he feared the ground separating us; I just assumed he was a vampire oddity. In my long life, I had met and killed enough of them.

Raising an eyebrow, I tugged him towards me; I thought the chase for my life was actually rather exhilarating. Why did he stop? So I used my power to try start it up all over again; or at least until he was far away enough from backup that I could kill him. But instead he took a step back. I could see he struggled with his choice, but he did it regardless.

That had never happened to me before. It made me gain a hollow feeling in my stomach. Every vampire followed my invisible tug, so what was stopping this stranger? Maybe I was broken or sick? _How odd_, I mused. Never had I been sick before. It sounded like a horrible experience and I had previously thought that I was immune to illnesses.

Perhaps these vampires gave me a disease or something. My heart – stable through most of the chase – began to splutter as I wondered whether I was incapacitated somehow with a disease.

Before I could think about it anymore, a different scent made its way into the perfectly clean atmosphere of the forest, a smell that made the hairs on my neck stand on end and the vampire near me stiffen suddenly.

The scent definitely fit in with the forest. The closest I could get to describe it was the smell of the wolves that I had encountered in Europe. Definitely not normal wolves though, certainly not werewolves (I had encountered a pair in Europe also), and it wasn't the smell of dogs.

Different, but the smell was not totally unpleasant. Musky, earthy, the smell reminded me of nature and of the outdoors. I wondered what was making it? And what creature was big enough to saturate the air in its scent?

When that thought hit me, which was when I began to panic a little. A musical voice cut through the silence and it startled me slightly. It was the man, and his face expressed the irrational panic I was beginning to experience.

"Please, cross the line and come back here. They are coming," he warned me ominously. With a blank expression, I looked at him. His statement made no sense to me.

What line? And who the hell were coming? Could he hear something I couldn't, or was it just that he was attempting to lure me in a trap?

Before my internal monologue could pull me to a conclusion, I heard the noises of heavy padded footsteps coming closer. All possibilities of going to the psychotic vampire who had kidnapped me were thrown out the window, as I wanted to see the mysterious creatures.

It wasn't like they could hurt me or anything like that, I had thought. Those were famous last words, which never ever should be repeated. That phrase seemingly conjured up bad luck. But I didn't know that at the time of course.

Turning around, I saw a fuzzy shape making its way towards me at an incredible pace. Strangely it seemed blurry, but my eyesight usually allowed me to see things as clear as day regardless of the distances. If only I had taken the warnings my body was sending me, but stubborn as ever, I wanted to see it, whatever it was anyway.

There was a slight shuffling noise from behind me, and I turned to see the vampire backing away rather quickly. He noticed that I was looking, and he began to motion for me to join him. I just looked at him with confusion. His motions sped up and his eyes looked at me imploringly.

Shaking my head in confusion, I opened my mouth to speak, but suddenly, my back with ripped open in pain, indescribable pain.

The last thing I saw before my eyes were covered with a haze of pain-induced tears was the vampire rushing towards me. The last thing I heard was his screams and the snarls of the creature behind me. The last thing I smelled was the woody scent from before, but this time magnified ten-fold in his proximity to me, and there was the rusty, sweet smell of my blood. The last thing I felt was my hot blood dripping off of me and pain blooming in my back over and over again.

Why did it have to hurt so much?

I was falling into the darkness...

I was sinking into the void...

I was gone...

All I could hope for was that I would wake.

*******

**A/N: Oh my God! Yes, I went there: I left y'all on a cliffhanger. *Evil laugh*. Feel the wrath of anxiety!**

**Just thought you'd like to know before you bombard me with questions: Bella was attacked by a werewolf (remember that the La Push werewolves are different to the other werewolves that Bella was referring to, as they are technically called "Children of the Moon" or whatever the hell Stephenie Meyer called them). The reason she was attacked was because she was drenched in the scent of vampires. Edward was chasing her, but had to stop at the boundry line - the one made by the Quileutes. His appearance there re-enforced the idea she was a vampire. That and her pale skin and inhuman speed of course. Oh, and due to distance and impatience, she did not see the Cullen's golden eyes.**

**Can anybody tell me what book the quote "_Time spent in r_****econnaissance** is seldom wasted" was from? Here's a clue, it is from a rather popular set of Australian books, written for teenagers. I loved the series, they were the bomb.

**Muffins for reading. Reviews equals another chapter...**


	5. Painful Agony

**A/N: Hi there guys! Due to the overwhelming response, and the sudden burst of inspiration I got, this was posted early by yours truly!**

**Actually, in one aspect, I was a little let down: only one person got that the books I was referring to was called the **_**Tomorrow Series by John Marsden**_**, more specifically **_**Tomorrow, When The War Began**_**. Oh well. If you haven't read them, go and read them after you are done reviewing this. *Hint hint*.**

**People, I have to clarify this: the blond vampire that was trying to talk to her was Carlisle. A few people thought it was Jasper. Sorry for any confusion. But if it were Jasper, I would've mentioned the scars or something.**

**Disclaimer: Twilight is not mine. You know why? I don't get royalties or anything from it. Which is fine by me. I have enough fun reading and writing. **

*******

**Chapter Five.**

There was darkness surrounding me like a thick, heavy fog. The shroud of nothingness was pressing down on me with a painful force. My back and parts of my arms and legs burned with unsuppressed agony. It was not like fire, but worse than that. Somehow, it felt as though acid was trickling on my back, never ceasing, never stilling the pain.

Stirring slightly, I began to hear voices, muffled noises filling my ears and consciousness. All of it was meaningless and pointless for I could not concentrate on anything. No matter, I wanted to sleep, but I could not. And that was what I concentrated on. I wanted to fall into the abyss of restful slumber.

But would I wake?

To be honest, I didn't care. Anything to end the pain racking though me would be worth it, wouldn't it? At the time I thought so. Pain hazed my thoughts and my mind was certainly weak at that point. So I hid within my mind and tried to escape.

Fortune smiled upon me however, and I did not die. But what happened next wasn't exactly the best thing either.

*******

Waking up was certainly confusing. I was disorientated, weak, defensive and angry. The last thing I remembered was getting attacked by who knows what and having no clue to where I was and how I got here.

On a normal day, that alone would piss me off and make my day suck.

So why the hell did it have to coincide with one of the most fucked up days of my life?

Oh yeah, that's right. It was because I was anything but lucky. I hated my life sometimes.

So, the scene from my point of view was that I was on some bed, pain running like a current through my body, face down, and surrounded by vampires, who were my enemy and prey. The only pair I recognised was the blond male and the brown sort of red coloured haired vampire. My eyes were brimming with pain induced tears so it was harder to discern the others; not that I cared what they looked like. They would burn soon enough.

Anyway, all this does not make me the happiest person in the world. In fact, I was buggered and irritated and the only reason I wasn't screaming was the fact I would kill all theses people soon enough. Or at least die fighting.

As I moved to pin the big one down and kill them, I swung my legs from the bed, a simple enough movement that caused a scream to be ripped from me as I realised my back hadn't healed. _Now that was interesting_, I thought in a small part of my brain unaffected by the torturous pain. I healed as fast as any vampire and to not heal was definitely a cause for worry. Maybe my earlier assumptions that an infection was somehow slipped into my system weren't as far off as I had previously thought.

Now, I like my personal space as much as the next person, and I felt as though they were suffocating me as they rushed to my "aid". The thought that vampires would care about my wellbeing was laughable. Instinctively, I pushed them all away with my shield, using an insurmountable force and I heard the satisfying crunch as they hit the wall.

Normally it would take so much more force than that to fling these stone monsters back, but I guessed that I caught them off guard. My barrier was all mental; they thought they were being moved back by something solid, but it was all mind games. Sadly, I knew that being thrown into the wall wouldn't hurt them at the least.

Gingerly, slowly, carefully, I got up and took a look at myself, making sure all the while that the creatures of the night stayed pinned to the wall. Soon enough they would be able to move – I couldn't keep it up, pinning them to the wall with that amount of strength forever – but a few minutes would be enough time for me to assess my damages without fear of additional injury.

Hissing, I turned my neck and saw that I was heavily bandaged from the shoulders down to my thighs. Whatever the hell attacked me did a pretty damn good job of it. Closing my eyes, I concentrated on my body and I felt the sinews attempting vainly to close up and heal, but there was a barrier stopping it. These idiots didn't clean the wounds properly! I hazarded a guess that there was a venom or something of the like barring my healing process.

Groaning, I gingerly attempted to stand, but only ended up falling back down with a grunt on the bed. It still hurt too much to stand. Blood was starting to seep through the bandages, a sign of my exertion, but I paid it no mind. These vampires probably were dying – no pun intended – to kill me and I'll be damned – again, no pun intended – if I'll let anything of the like happen.

Luckily, my arms, head, neck, calves and feet were for the most part uninjured. My back and thighs seemed to take the brunt of the attack. A sudden twinge in my chest caused me to cough, and as I drew my hand away from my mouth, I saw blood on my palm.

Frowning a little, I looked at the red splatters of blood on my hand and realised that one of my lungs were damaged. Not so badly that they were torn, but probably the weight of the creature that attacked me squashed my lung; my left one by the feel of it.

Intrigued, and I hated to admit it, but I felt a little admiration for whatever did this to me. They would have had to be undoubtedly strong.

That little amount of respect was all I felt for them; I still wanted their heads and to make they pay.

Wiping the blood on a clear patch of bandages, I looked up and took a little more interest in my surroundings. My battered leather bag was residing next to me, and tattered clothes were on the bench next to the bed. They were obviously cleaned of my blood, but it seems that they couldn't fix up the tears and rips in the fabric. No matter, all of it was replaceable.

My pocketknife and my lighter were resting on top of the clothes and at their reappearance, a true smile broke out on my face for the first time in a long while. It was ironic that here I was all battered and worn, and the tiny things in my pocket made it out scratch free.

Slowly, my eyes made their way casually around the room, taking in all the minute details. The light was dim, but it made no difference to what I saw. As my gaze passed the vampires, I noticed they weren't pinned to the wall anymore. Huh. I guess my magnetic force sort of let them go when I was observing everything.

Checking the barrier, I knew if any of them came two steps forward, they would be blocked. Also, I noticed that there was a little irritating prodding in the back of my head. It wasn't damaging in the slightest, as I could feel that I was repelling whatever they were doing. Still, it was annoying and I wished they'd stop.

Scanning my surroundings in an attempt to ignore the light, poking, prodding sensation in the back of my mind, I realised that I was in a dull, dimly lit room, which held a lot of moisture in the air. There were no windows and I assumed that after my last stunt, they learned that the second story wouldn't be enough to hold me here.

_Probably a basement_, I concluded mentally, seeing how the walls were all made of concrete and that there were several pipes leading in and out of the room. Made sense to hold me here; I wasn't in any state to try and stage a breakout through concrete. Call me indestructible, but in my fragile state, I wasn't dumb enough to risk it.

There was one door – behind the vampires – and it consisted of thick metal and had an electronic keypad lock thingy. Great, I couldn't escape without making a tonne of noise and mess.

It was hard to concentrate, and my mind kept jumping from one thing to another. For a minute, I wondered whether this feeling of vulnerability and confusion was anything similar to what newborn vampires experienced.

A slight coughing noise made me snap my head back around to the vampires. The blond one, the one who I met yesterday looked at me cautiously and proceeded to speak, "How are you feeling? Are you all right?"

Snorting, I cracked my knuckles and pointed to my back, "Does it look like I'm all right? Anyway, why the hell do you care?"

What I felt to be the main vampire (the eldest looking blond male), the one whom I encountered the other day, seemed slightly taken aback at my comment. Like I cared about manners and my obvious rudeness. Not only was I grumpy and hurt, I wasn't even given the chance to wake up in peace!

He opened his mouth to say something, but the bronze haired vampire cut in first. "What is wrong with you? We had spent the last two days –" _wow, I was out for two days? _"– making sure that you do not pass into the void –" _I knew it would take more than a few (albeit very painful) scratches to kill me, and this guy was so overdramatic_ "– and it would be good for you to show some respect to my father!" At this comment, I raised my eyebrows in mild disbelief and looked away.

In the back of my mind, I knew he was still berating me, but I didn't give a damn at the moment, and so I stopped listening and turned my attention to the rest of the coven.

There was a big one with lots of muscles and having a head of brown curls – who was grinning, oddly enough, flashing me a pair of dimples – then there was a blonde vampire next to him, gorgeous beyond words, but all I saw was a killer with an additional part of her arsenal that she probably used to lure unsuspecting prey.

Curves in all the right places, she would have no trouble seducing other vampires, let alone some dumbass human men who don't know any better.

I don't know why, but I think it would be fairer if the monsters looked like monsters. Even sometimes think that I look too good. I, and every other monster, should show what's hiding beneath the surface. Ugly, scary, the whole package, that way, people know to stay away from them.

Making them look like angels is like God playing a prank on humanity. Huh. God screwing around with humanity; the idea sounds plausible if there even was a holy entity. Or maybe it's just the devil attempting to piss off God. Whatever.

Anyway, if they had a third arm or something, it would be harder for them to remain in hiding, easily picking off the helpless humans. Not that a third arm would hinder their strength or anything. _Why am I thinking about adding an additional limb on vampires?_

Shaking my head, I continued looking, resting my gaze on a female vampire who looked gentle – which was probably a trick of the light – and she had soft features with a heart shaped face. Definitely an easy target from the looks of things.

Ahh, but I should remember that covers are always deceptive.

Standing slightly behind the blond male leader indicated to me that she was his mate. Then again, they could be friends with benefits. I didn't really care; the only problem mates possessed were after the death of their "life" partner, they usually went psycho crazy.

_But that was always fun to fight against an enraged vampire_, I thought with an undercurrent of sarcasm.

Next to them, was another blond male vampire, much younger that the other, but what was disturbing was the amount of nite marks that covered his skin. Hell, his scars rivalled mine with ease! And that was saying something. Tilting my head, I scanned him slowly from head to toe, checking out if there are any particularly weak points, which I could twist to my advantage.

Littering his skin were little crescent moon bumps, matching mine in nearly everyway; his stood out less as he was as pale as you could get. As I held a little tan, my marks were more obvious. And his marks seemed to concentrate on his hands, whereas mine were all over my neck; thanks to overzealous vampire attacks.

Damn, to receive so many bites were like wearing a medal for every vampire you killed basically; friends don't bite friends after all. If you attack another vampire with your teeth, then usually it is an indication for a duel to the death. I had to admire the guy; he's definitely going to be hard to exterminate.

My careful observation of the man made the tiny vampire standing beside him stir uncomfortably, but I was more intrigued by something else.

This vampire had golden eyes.

Checking the eyes of the others hurriedly, I noticed their eyes also held a tinge of golden-yellow. His was stronger, as though he had just hunted or something. But of course, they were probably contacts. Red was the eye colour of vampires, and I would have assumed that to blend in, they would have chosen a colour that wasn't so conspicuous. Like blue or green.

Gold was just ostentatious. Really, I mean come _on_.

Why even bother to fit in with society when they are so obviously abnormal; pale, ice cold, super strong, bloody killer habits (pun intended)... None of these vampires expressed jerky movements to indicate the presence of a newborn vampire or anything, so it indicated that these were all of a reasonable age (for immortals, anyway) and that they were at the very least, able to control themselves. Fighting would indeed be hard. And it was not just because vampires are hard like stone.

My back still ached, but staying still seemed to calm the storm of pain. My mind was clearing up a bit too, and made me realise that the scarred vampire was eyeing my scars – particularly the one on my cheek – with equal curiosity to mine. It was also brought to my attention that the arrogant vampire finished his rant.

Turning my attentions to him, I gave him a swift glance up and down. He looked ... good. _Very_ good looking, indeed. Even for a vampire, I guess. With a chiselled jaw and defined muscles under his shirt, I can almost see swarms of girls running over one another to get to him.

Yet, he was a killer nonetheless and I would not attempt to see him in any other light. So I kept my expression neutral and uncaring as I asked casually, "You done yet? I wasn't listening to half of that to be honest."

He growled and I just laughed at his face. This guy needed to loosen up. The way he talked made me remember the gentlemen of another time; when girls were meek and mild. I would hazard a guess and assume he hadn't adapted with the times, and he probably hadn't enough integrated colloquial slang into his casual speech. With a small portion of my mind not calculating tactics, controlling the pain or anything else useful, I wondered why, out of all these vampires, that he was the most uptight.

Probably because he couldn't try drugs in the hippie years like everyone else, seeing as he was a vampire and all. My thoughts were definitely warped and I just laughed a little harder.

A light tinkling laugh joined mine which made my laughter stop abruptly and I turned sharply to face the small vampire from which the noise was emitting from.

She had spiky black hair, sticking up haphazardly in several directions, and her entire demeanour was pixie like. She was the partner of the marked vampire from before. Her nose was small and pointed, matching her slightly prominent cheekbones. Her frame was smaller than me and I felt as though she was a child. But an immortal child; a human kid changed to be everlasting? If she were one, she would be dead.

A feeling stirred within me, sort of like deja vu and I realised with a jolt that I think I've seen this one before.

But where could we have encountered one another? Mentally, I flipped through all the vampires I've killed, seen and or met, starting from the most recent, making my way back.

Leaning forward slightly, teeming with suppressed curiosity, I asked her, "What's your name?"

"Alice," she replied simply, her golden eyes wide with innocence, brimming with curiosity.

'Hmm," I muttered; the name was not yet helpful in my searches.

Using my oh-so-magnetic personality, I forced her closer, hoping that proximity will allow me recognition of sorts. The blond scarred vampire growled in warning as Alice slowly stepped forward to me – her mind was under the impression that it was her choice and not my pull that led her – and he tried to grab her arm. I guess he was her mate. Pushing him back, I knew that I wanted only Alice to proceed closer to me.

The rest of the coven began to get restless as she neared me, but I stopped her when she was six feet away. No need to be in arm's reach.

Still checking memories, I knew I was turning up with blanks. So, I asked her, "I know you from somewhere. Did you know me? I can't seem to pull up the right damn memory."

Shyly, she answered hesitantly, "Umm, I don't think I know you. I don't even know your name."

"Bella," I answered dismissively, my mind definitely elsewhere, vainly attempting to place where I've seen her before.

"Thank you," murmured Alice, definitely nervous, yet somehow comfortable near me.

And that's when I remembered. Those words, I hear the very same phrase so many years ago...

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**A/N: It was going to continue, but then I couldn't shut up, so I decided to make it another chapter. For this story, I am making the chapters bite sized compared to long assed chapters in my other story. **

**In advance: **_**no**_**, she will not fall for anyone straight away. She is used to being lonely and will definitely be reluctant to change that. And yes, this Bella will be rude and independent. *Grins*. She'll be awesome. :-)**

**By the way, Bella is still unaware that the Cullen's are non-human drinking vampires. She just brushed the different eye colour off as being contacts lenses.**

**So was it a miss, a hit or were you indifferent to this chapter? I will gladly except flames with constructive critism in them. Review please, or you will never know how this all turns out. Muffins for reading it! Cake for reviews! :-) **


	6. Recalling Pasts

**A/N: S'up people? Here's chapter six. Read it and enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing of Twilight. But it doesn't seem to stop me messing up with the plot or characters!**

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**Chapter Six. **

She was the girl I saved so long ago. But back then, she had beautiful,_ long _raven black hair; not the short spiky style she wore right now. She was the catalyst, the reason I was a hunter. Hell, I even checked up on her once, the day after the attack...

_~Flashback~_

Sitting in a tall tree was not uncomfortable. However, resting on a dampened tree branch in the middle of a moist, cold night was getting annoying. But I wanted to check on the girl.

Hopefully she would be smart enough not to tell anyone about her recent encounter with me and the other red headed vampire. I would hate for the Volturi to need to pay a visit to this area if unseemly rumours started to pop up around here. And another thing was that I needed my existence to stay on the down low for now.

If I was going to start hunting vampires, I couldn't exactly let the "royalty" learn of my existence. At the very least, I wanted some practise with the whole capture and kill deal I was doing. Though I could kill, it would do me good to excel at it.

Looking through the window, I saw her sitting down for dinner, a clearly disturbed and somewhat relieved expression distorting her features. She was so young, so innocent. I felt a wave of pride swell within me as I realised that by killing that vampire pursuing her, I gave her and many others, extra life.

Haha, I think I was getting a mild God complex. Choosing who lives or dies is surely not a job I should be bestowed with ... but if there is a higher authority, letting my existence come to be must mean that I was meant to do what I was planning to. Twisting my neck anxiously, I looked back through the open widow of the house, noticing how the white lace curtains fluttered slightly in the breeze.

As her mother joined her to eat, I saw her nervously twisting her hair, her face still a little pale from before, I assumed. Obviously, any concerned mother would have picked up on this and would have enquired what was wrong, but she just ignored her. Or perhaps she just didn't notice her; at just over four feet, she was no giant.

However, her father noticed her demeanour and began to ask of her, "Mary, what's wrong? Honey, you look like you saw a ghost! You aren't having any more hallucinations, are you?" At the last comment, his voice lowered considerably and it sounded like he was mildly ashamed.

But the comment seemed to gain a response from Mary and she snapped, "They are _not_ hallucinations papa! I swear I can see what's going to happen! Why won't you believe me?" Growling, she stabbed her vegetables viciously, scowling at the veiled accusation against her mental state.

Hmm, that was either good news or bad news; depending on the point of view I was going to take. If she was having hallucination, then any claims of vampires, or something of the like being believed was slim to none. However, I did not want her to get locked up in the nut house when she was telling the truth. Because that right there would be screwed up irony.

Frowning, her father grumbled, "_Mary Alice Brandon_! Do not dare speak to me like that! It is unbecoming of a lady. And speaking of being a lady; young girls – and boys for that matter – cannot see what's is going to happen. Stay quiet about this outside the house and home, for if the neighbours hear, you'll be institutionalised!"

"I'm not crazy," pressed Mary, tugging slightly at the ends of her hair, her eyes tired and I felt like they had discussed this several times already. Coughing slightly, her mother interrupted with, "Did you hear that the Darcy family are –"

Before any more talk could come from her, Mary interrupted too, "Does not of you care that I was nearly _killed _today?" Oh crap. She wouldn't say to her parents that she was nearly eaten by a vampire only to be saved by a human demon, would she? It's her life; speak up, then get locked up. I wished that I could tell her to be quiet. I quite liked this human; she seemed sparky compared to the other girls of her age, less demure, less submissive. An oddity in the world; like me.

However, the looks on her parent's faces in response to their daughter's comments were quite amusing if the situation was not so grim. Their eyes were raised high in disbelief and their mouths were opened slightly, a comical look. The father collected his wits first and began to splutter, "What? Where? When? How?"

Mary's mother quickly got up and hugged her daughter tightly, cooing words of comfort in her ear. Rather than being soothed, Mary just looked annoyed.

"This afternoon, I was taking a walk in the park and I got chased by a mad woman. But –" At this point, she hesitated, clearly thinking through her words, and realising the implications behind it. "– another woman came and took the crazy woman away. Even though she helping me, I still ran away, and I regret not thanking her properly." Her tone of voice was truly grateful and I knew she was being honest. Though she may not remember, I heard her quiet thanks, and that alone was enough for me.

Sighing in relief, I watched a little longer as her parents fussed over her, and then I made my way north. There was work to be done.

_~End Flashback~_

Shaking my head of the memory, I looked around and saw Alice – or was it Mary? – and the rest of the vampires staring back at me with curious expressions. This time, I looked at Alice; I scanned her and compared her to my memory. Her frame was slightly taller and curvier. The hair, skin and eyes were the most notable change, but overall, she looked like a slightly older version of the girl I saved so many years ago.

Frowning, I wondered why she was changed. For a human to meet up with several vampires across their lifespan was a rare thing; there were just so many people to choose from. As a human, she must have been especially tantalising. Vaguely, I remembered she smelled quite sweet, but not so much to attract so much attention.

My mind was whizzing through numerous theories of the environment surrounding her transformation, but the only conclusion I came up with was that she was changed because of me. Somehow, they traced me back to her. The only thing they could have gleaned from her would've been a vague image of my face, something that wasn't very important at the time. At the time I was still a no name; I wasn't important.

And finally I came across another memory that made no sense at the time...

_~Flashback~_

The male was circling me, seemingly unshaken that I was able to throw him off me with ease. Most vampires flinched at the very least with surprise that something was stronger than them. Of course, I couldn't help but ask why he wasn't surprised with my strength.

"You killed my friend. I know you are not what you appear," he snapped, eyes burning with an unbidden desire. His comment made my stomach turn in reply; I didn't expect that.

"Me killing a friend doesn't seem like a warrant for such a persistent revenge," I threw back coolly. But in fact, I was a little unnerved that this guy spent weeks hunting me. I knew someone was hunting me, however, I assumed it was a worker for the Volturi; it wouldn't be the first time they sent people after me.

"Well, we weren't just friends; more like friends with benefits," he snarled while keeping his eyes trained onto me all the while. We were still circling one another, continually searching for weaknesses, for an opening to attack.

"So, how did you find me?" I asked nonchalantly, whereas I was doubly curious to the answer. Was he just a good tracker or was it another witness that gave me away.

"Your little human friend gave it away," he told me smugly. All that my face showed was confusion; I had no human friends. I made sure to stick away from emotional attachments in the case they are used against me as collateral.

"What human friend? And who the hell was your vampire mate I killed?" I enquired, feeling slightly lost.

Growling, he snarled viciously, a sadistic grin spreading on his features. "My _friend _– Victoria – was the red head. Also, I didn't know that Victoria was dead at first. But when I couldn't reach her anymore, I knew. Well, that and the fact I found her remains a week later. There was some good about her death though; it was that that lead me in to one of the most challenging hunts in my lifetime."

Blankly, I told him, "I've killed so many vampires that were all redheads, brunettes, blondes or any other hair colour you want to mention. So, sorry; I can't remember her." We were stalking one another with more speed and I was itching to rip him apart. His crazy demeanour was creepy to say the least. In fact, now that I looked, he didn't resemble the angered expression of someone seeking revenge; it was something different. Something more sinister.

"Your little friend in the nuthouse mumbled enough about your appearances to give me a lead on where to look. I've been searching for you for years. If only I had got to your little human witness earlier, but I didn't know she existed until recently."

This confession from him was unnerving. Nuthouse? I had known no humans that went to an asylum! But if there was one that could describe me, that wasn't exactly good news either.

Gulping shakily, I asked curiously, keeping a calm exterior, "Where is this human now?"

"Well," he started off, "I wasn't the only vampire with her. Some other poor, immortal soul was convinced that they were in _love_." Pausing to scoff and roll his eyes, he calmly continued. "He stole her back from me when I was interrogating her. I'm positive he tried to change her. But when I found him distraught in the woods, I think he failed." I wasn't sure whether to be pleased she wasn't a demon or whether to mourn this unknown person's death.

Grinning evilly, he continued once more, "Admittedly, I was less than pleased that he took her before I could get everything –" he was implying that he wanted her blood "– so I killed him. He didn't even put up a fight."

It was then that the monster leapt at me. In no time, I had ripped his arms off with my teeth.

_~End Flashback~_

Damn it! Number one rule of hunting vampires: check for a mate. Or whatever resembled a mate. And I should've at least searched if there were companions or a coven. But it being the early days of my hunting, I never did that for her! She was defenceless and it was my fault.

My fault...

Because of me, her humanity stripped away, and I didn't doubt much that she would have killed hundreds in her newborn years; there was probably no one there to guide her.

Staring blankly ahead, I vaguely realised that tears were dripping from my eyes, but I was lost in my thoughts.

Was that vampire referring to Alice? Was the pixie like vampire in front of me locked up in an asylum? Maybe she kept persisting about my existence or perhaps about the hallucinations her father mentioned... If that was the case, I was definitely to blame.

Was I not here to protect people? Maybe if I let her die, then the people she killed would still be here. But then if I let that other vampire survive, so many more might've been killed, or maybe I would never have taken up the role of a vampire slayer.

All of these conundrums were like the confusing patterns of the butterfly effect. If a butterfly flapped its wings in Texas, it could cause a snowstorm in Alaska. So maybe I killed a hypothetical butterfly/human?

Did that even make any sense?

Ah, all this was giving me nothing but a headache and a deep-set feeling of guilt. So I wiped away my tears and tried to resign myself to the knowledge that what's done is done.

Looking up into the shocked face of the vampire in front of me, I asked slowly, "What year were you changed, Mary?"

She looked at me quizzically, and replied, "Mary?" I noticed that she dodged the question, but I supposed that she was just surprised that I knew her name.

Nodding tiredly, I said, "That's what your parents called you, isn't it? Though, why you are using your middle name as a title is beyond me."

At this, her eyes widen considerably in surprise and danced with apprehension, disbelief and excitement. Breathlessly – which I wasn't sure was possible for a member of the undead – she began to question, stumbling over her words, "Who are you again? And how do you know my parents? They've been dead for a long time. What else do you know about me?"

A sudden thought struck me that explained her strange reaction. Cautiously, I asked, "How much of your human life do you remember?"

As she hastened to answer, the annoying bronze-haired vampire interrupted, "That depends... what are you and what do think we are?" His smooth voice rang in my ears, and I found it hard to concentrate as another spark of pain flared when I shifted in my seat.

Waving my hand dismissively, ignoring the slight pangs of pain the gesture caused me, I replied, "You guys are vampires. What the hell else would y'all be?" Their faces displayed varying degrees of shock, which was mildly amusing.

The head vampire, the blond male, seemed to recover first and politely asked, "But you never answered; what are you?"

"Why is a raven like a writing desk?" I quoted the riddle from _Alice In Wonderland_.

As they stared at me blankly, I told them, "I don't need to give any of you straight answers. If I wanted to, I can speak in riddles all the time."

Pinching the bridge of his nose, the annoying vampire piped up again and said, "It would be polite to tell us what you are, considering you know what we are."

Snorting, I crossed my arms and legs, hissing slightly at the mild spikes of pain running through them. Frowning at my limbs, I vaguely wondered for how long would it hurt. For some reason, it wasn't healing properly (I was going to be covered in more scars than ever) and instinctively, I knew that even if I cleaned out the rest of the venom or whatever it was in my system, the rips would still take a while to heal.

Suddenly, I noticed they were still waiting for a response, so I glared at them and snapped, "Why must I answer all these questions? Screw that, I'm a fucking prisoner here! Why the hell should I act civil to a bunch of bloodthirsty monsters who are currently holding me against my will in a stinking basement?"

At my little outburst, their faces were beyond shocked. I inwardly smiled, but kept a cold exterior. When the snarky bronze-haired vampire opened his mouth, I expected another pointless rant, but instead he said gently, "We are only holding you here until you recover. Your injuries are severe and we figured that putting you upstairs might cause another jump from the window. And if we knew what species you were, it would make treating your injuries that much easier." His eyes softened as he spoke to me, and to be honest, the sudden change in demeanour was slightly unnerving.

I think I liked it better when they were all the enemies. But they were showing me courtesy and kindness; something I had never ever encountered with vampires before.

Confused and speechless, the blond male took advantage of my silence and filled me in, "I am pretty sure you will have difficulty walking and moving for the next few weeks. It's hard to estimate a time; I observed your wounds and they seemed to be healing much faster than predicted. But they will need constant observation. Luckily, you weren't killed."

Rolling my eyes, I muttered under my breath, "Yeah right... "luckily"." Sighing, I turned to them and stated frankly, "I don't even know why I should bloody trust the lot of you. How can I be sure you all aren't working with the Volturi?"

The big, burly male enquired curiously, "What does the Volturi have to do with anything?" His face displayed a childlike innocence, and for a split second, I nearly believed him. However, I came to my senses as I realised that vampires were skilled liars.

Rubbing my face with my hands, I answered tiredly, "Don't play dumb with me. If you are going to hand me over to them, then hurry up and do it. You won't get anything else if you send me to them healthy; in fact, they would appreciate it if I were injured. Those cowardly bastards wouldn't be able to take me on otherwise."

The beautiful, blonde bombshell decided to pipe up when the others were again stunned into silence and she added sharply, "We aren't working with or for the Volturi. What in the world makes you think that? We have shown you only kindness since we brought you here."

"Exactly," I said. "You have been only kind to me. What vampire puts their_ dinner _in a bed? You are planning to send me to Italy, aren't you?" Snorting, I sighed and muttered, "It's always when you least expect it..." Then again, in the back of my mind, I was always aware that I would soon need to face off with the royalty. I only wished I was fit and healthy for the encounter with their guard.

Alice, (or Mary, I dunno), shook her head and her eyes were sparkling with curiosity. She said to me, "You are not our dinner. We don't feed off humans, or whatever you appear to be –"

Interrupting her, I said sarcastically, "What gave the fact I'm not human away? Was it my sheer speed or what?" Pausing, I rethought her statement and with a shocked gasp, I asked, "You don't drink from humans? What? Vampires cannot survive without blood! They need it –"

Quickly, Alice interrupted me, like I did to her and she said, "We drink from animals. That's why our eyes are golden."

Freezing, my brows furrowed as I tried to spin my mind around the concept. It was ... otherworldly. Though I drank animal blood, I never thought that vampires would willingly take it up. After my creator said that it tasted disgusting, I ruled out the notion as impossible.

But, for argument's sake, I wondered whether them being animal drinkers made them any better in my eyes. It supposed it would all depend on whether they've ever killed a human or not. My head and my back hurt. I had to think, but my mind was hazy. What would I do with these creatures?

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**A/N: Okay, the conversation is going on for longer than I originally envisioned. Sorry about that. :P**

**Sliced fruit for reading; got to stay healthy people! All these cakes are not good for you! *Laughs*.**


	7. Oncoming Storm

**A/N: Honest to god, I am not abandoning this story – I just kind of forgot to update. *Laughs*. I've been quite the busy bee with numerous other projects on my belt.**

**Also, blame FanFiction. It crashed for me, wouldn't let me log in, nor would it let me upload my chapter, so I had to wait and do everything via a backwards route. *Grumbles*.**

**Disclaimer: Yeah ... this isn't mine, but you and I both know that, right?**

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**Chapter Seven.**

I decided that for now I would disregard their claim of vegetarianism as false until I see them feed with my own eyes. The main thing that has kept me alive all these years was my natural cynicism and pessimistic nature. Why would I stop being paranoid now? If anything, I should be more paranoid.

My stomach rumbled and I looked at my bag with a frown on my face. Though I was hungry and there was food in my bag, I was debating whether it was worth the pain to get up and get it. Staring intently at the object – like it would mysteriously move over to me – Alice suddenly piped up, "Would you like some food?"

Raising an eyebrow, I turned my attention to her and smirked. "Really? You guys can cook?"

It was a slight surprise when Alice did not reply, but the leader's mate did. Her heart-shaped face was scrunched up in sympathy and kindness as she said, "I can cook, and it wouldn't be any trouble to whip you up a meal."

Coughing slightly, I shook my head. "No thanks," I told her somewhat politely. I couldn't seem to find it within myself to snap at her that I'd rather eat dirt than something a vampire concocted for me; something I would immediately assumed as being poisoned. Actually, could I be poisoned? It wasn't like I had tried to do that before – but I don't think it would work.

Usually I would never pass up the chance to taunt a vampire, but I think the pain was getting to me. If I were able to process drugs like a normal human, I would be blaming them too.

Moving my hand to my bag, I asked Alice, "Can you get that for me? I would get it myself, but..." I trailed off, but used my hand to gesture to my bandages.

Though I did not know Alice, our prior meeting made me trust her a smidgen more than anyone else. My memories showed a cautious girl, someone who was trustworthy and had good intuition. When a human changes into a vampire, they take and store most of their original personality traits.

She slowly moved towards me, obviously trying not to startle me. Her overzealous cautiousness nearly made me smile. Alice respected my personal space and dropped the bag a foot away from me, keeping at a comfortable distance. I liked her a little more for that.

Smiling at her when she retreated, I rummaged through (the movements still burned me) and pulled out what was left of my cheese and bread. Quickly, I took small bites of both, worried that I might vomit. My stomach was unsettled, but the food seemed to help. All too soon, I finished what I had.

There was a quiet shuffling and with a start, I realized that the vampires were still here and they were watching me eat. "Hmm?" I asked, a little irritated with the staring. The big, muscled one grinned at me, flashing a pair of dimples, but I stared blankly back at him.

Beauty was standing before me, hiding the faces of murderers. That was what I saw.

Scratching the back of my neck in a gesture I had picked up from hanging around in the human world for so long, I glanced down awkwardly and saw that I had no shirt on. I frowned and wondered why I didn't notice that earlier. Probably the pain was blinding my usual thought process.

This was getting annoying. It was unsettling to not be able to think clearly. I hated it. But for now, there was nothing I could do but use my shield to keep the vampires at bay.

"Who did my bindings?" I asked to the crowd at large, who were all mildly surprised at my sudden change in topic._ Please be a girl, please be a girl, please be a girl,_ I chanted silently in my mind. I did not want to have been ogled while unconscious and injured. That was just bad.

The _male_ leader stepped forward and I think I made a face because he began to explain, "Don't worry, I am a qualified doctor. I did the best job that I could with your odd injuries."

Raising an eyebrow, I looked him up and down again slowly. Doctor? Why would a vampire want to be a doctor? Maybe he just wanted easy access to the Blood Bank. The lame joke made me laugh inwardly and a smirk play on my lips.

Curious, I began to question him, "Doctor? Doctor _who_? What's your name? And what's your field of medicine?" The last question was touched by a hint of sarcasm.

Politely, he answered my questions, ignoring the sarcasm, "My name is Carlisle Cullen and I've done a wide variety of medicine over my lifetime. At the moment, I feature in the surgeries at the local hospital."

Truly intrigued, I asked, "How can you stand the blood? Are you without an old factory sense or something?"

Chuckling quietly, he told me, "I can smell perfectly fine. My self-control is unparalleled, if I do say so myself. With centuries of practice, I am nearly immune to the smell of blood."

My eyes shot up and my jaw dropped. Never have I encountered such a feat. Staring at him, eager to test it out, I raised my forearm to my mouth and bit down hard. The pain was nothing compared to my back, but it stung nonetheless. My teeth broke a main artery and the blood flowed freely.

Looking up, I noticed that the scarred vampire was probably the worst affected; his eyes were black and he was growling with desire. However, Alice seemed successful in holding him back.

None of the others had such a reaction; I tempted them, with panic and want clouding their eyes, but they stayed rooted to where they stood. Carlisle however, looked merely shocked that I bit myself. His eyes were full of calm and showed no outward distress.

Before any of them could offer assistance, my wound healed back up, nearly immediately. At least it cleared up any fears that I was at fault. It was definitely the venom slowing down my healing. All that was left was a white mark, which would definitely turn into a scar. Hmm, maybe I could've thought that through some more. It was too late now.

Grimacing a little at the taste of my blood, I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. Using my bindings, I wiped off the blood that was on my arm and held my hand out to Carlisle, "Nice to meet you. I'm Bella Swan."

He slowly came forward and shook my hand. I instinctively shuddered a little from his cold hands. "If I might ask, what was the point of that little stunt?" he said when we shook hands.

"Well, I wanted to see whether what you spoke was true. My blood smells quite alluring, so I thought it would be a good test subject." I shrugged and continued, "You passed the test and have earned my respect. Very few people that walk this earth have ever shook my hand with my permission. You should feel honored."

Bowing his head slightly in a nod, I nodded back and released his hand. "Have you ever drained a human?" With his control, I suspected that maybe the impossible was possible here.

Shaking his head, he replied, "Never have I drunk the blood of a human."

"Wow," I murmured, feeling slightly awed and breathless at his answer. It was... unthinkable. A vampire that has never drank from a human?

Looking behind him, I asked, "Does anyone else in your coven have the same record?"

Stepping forward were the three girls. Alice, the blonde and the brunette. "Girl power," I muttered sarcastically. "Names, please," I asked. The two I didn't know introduced themselves as Rosalie and Esme respectively.

Nodding absentmindedly at them, amazed to see four vampires that have never drained a human – all in one group too! – I turned my attention to the other boys, mainly the scarred one. His numerous marks made me curious.

I eyed the bites carefully; mentally counting them, realizing that he must have killed hundreds of vampires to acquire such marks. Even I wasn't as scarred as he was. But then again, when vampires aim for me, they usually never get the chance to bite, because they underestimate me and I usually get to bite first.

But for a vampire to be bitten so many times and survive...

"Are you sure you don't work for the Volturi? Being a guard might explain those," I indicated to his scars. He looked a little surprised at my inquiry, but he shook his head before he answered, "I was a fighter in the southern vampires wars, ma'am." His accent re-enforced his explanation and I looked at him in both recognition and surprise.

I knew what the wars were, but... so much scarring... and...

"When did you quit the needless fighting?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at him.

"1868, 1869, around then," answered the vampire cautiously, his eyes barely containing his interest.

Sighing, I released a breath that I didn't even realize that I was holding. "Good, I thought I missed a few," I muttered tiredly, rubbing my face in my hands.

"Missed a few, what?" the burly one blurted out the question, teeming with curiosity.

Ignoring him, I went back to Scar face and questioned, "When was the last time you contacted any of your southern... associates, for want of a better term?"

Frowning slightly, making a small scar above his eyebrow crinkle, he murmured, "I haven't spoken to Maria in a couple of years. Why?"

Grinning slightly, I answered, "Oh, don't bother trying to talk to, who was it; Maria? The entire southern vampire region has been wiped out. Again."

With a shocked expression, horrified to an extent, he stuttered out, "When did the Volturi visit?"

Mock pouting, I placed a hand over my heart and said, "I'm hurt. You think _those_ lazy bastards took out the armies of the south? They screwed up the first time, what makes you think they are capable of doing this? This is another reason why I hate them; they always get credit for _my_ hard work."

The vampires before me stared at me with frozen expressions, their bugged out eyes the only signs of distress. Good. These creatures should be fully aware of what I was capable of.

Sighing dramatically, I said, "My nickname in the south was "The Oncoming Storm". They knew a threat was out there, but not what it was. But I think I got a little overconfident down there – my actions there started to really get the Volturi pissed."

"What does the Volturi want with you?" the blond male asked, a low hiss in his voice.

"Have you had a messenger from them yet? A note or poster of some kind?" Surely a coven of this magnitude would have special attention from Aro. That vampire was always so paranoid of a takeover.

Carlisle nodded and pulled a faded parchment from his pocket and I immediately recognized it as the one I had in my bag.

"Read it," I said with a small smirk. "That's all me."

No doubt they had read the note before, but their eyes widened as they needlessly reread the message.

Eying me warily, a hint of newfound respect and fear laced in his features, with a touch of skepticism in his stance, Scar face asked, "How is that possible? You are one and there are many in the south."

"_Were_ many," I said, calmly correcting his grammar. "I never said I took them all out at once. It's all a matter of using the right _bait_ and about having the patience to attack a few at a time. It took time, but I finished it all eventually."

"You used yourself as a lure and a trap?" the man asked in a reluctantly awed tone.

Rolling my eyes, I answered, "Duh. What do you take me for? I _protect_ humans; not use them as bait." Before he could say any more, I quickly turned to Alice and asked, "Is this idiot really your mate?"

"Jasper is not an idiot," argued Alice hotly. Her defensive tone confirmed what I thought.

Cocking my head to the right, I stated casually, "I didn't know vampires could mate _twice_." I was, of course, assuming that her now (properly) dead "lover" was once destined for her love, especially if he was so desperate to attempt to change her. Transforming a human was not as easy as many thought.

Her eyes bugged out and she choked out, "Pardon me, what did you just say?"

"You really don't remember your humanity, now do you?" I asked with a curious smile on my face. It was rare to hear of someone losing all of his or her humanity; normally they became hazy and or were slowly lost over the years. But not all in one go. And it usually meant that they turned into killers of thousands, their humanity not controlling their want of human blood. Either the Volturi or me took them down when they got out of hand.

Since her creator was allegedly found distraught in the woods, and not soon after, he was killed, he must have assumed that he had overdone it and had killed her. This led me to believe she woke alone. This and the fact that she cannot seem to recall anything about her human years If there was a coven member, surely he or she would inform her about everything.

A little respect welled in me for the petite vampire. Waking alone would be no walk in the park. And the fact she claims to have never drained a human was incredible. Newborns were always surrounded by death in their early years.

She tried to walk forward, but I stopped her with my invisible force. I had no intention of my answers being shaken out of me. Just because I was more comfortable with her than anybody else, did not mean that I would treat her much better than the others. A vampire was a vampire after all. Even if they allegedly did not drink from people, I had ever right to be wary of them.

The girl stayed quiet and for that I was grateful. I was starting to get aware of a throbbing in the base of my head, quietly building up over time, perhaps in direct correlation to the noise. This thought of pain brought me down pretty quickly and I remembered what I needed to know.

"Who and what the hell attacked me earlier?"

"A werewolf," answered the annoying bronze haired vampire immediately.

Snorting, I snapped back at him, "No, it wasn't. I've faced off with werewolves before. The monster that ripped open my back smelled and acted nothing like the pests that infest Europe."

Quickly after my comment, the bronze haired vampire started to explain that these "Quileutes" were not like the "Children Of The Moon" or whatever the hell he nicknamed the werewolves of Europe. Apparently the major difference was that the European ones were infected by bites, whereas the ones around this area held a genetic marker that allowed them to transform. I didn't know which sounded worse; both were a case of being forced into something that you would've never dreamed possible.

Being born into what I was, I guessed that I could relate to the Quileutes to an extent. Maybe more if one of them hadn't just clawed the heck out of me. Stuff like that left a bitter taste in my mouth when it came to them.

"But none of that really explains why I was attacked," I inserted hurriedly in a pause, irritated that I was still seemingly out of the loop.

Then the leader of the group, Carlisle, began to talk of an agreement, a treaty of sorts, that they made up with the natives. Apparently these monsters also thought themselves a protector of mankind. When I was running from my captors, I allegedly crossed an invisible line that gave them free reign over whether they could attack me or not. That explained why the male who was giving me a good chase stopped so abruptly, even when I tried to tug him along to me.

"How long did it take for them to realize that I wasn't a vampire; just that I smelled like one thanks to you lot?" I asked, my tone slightly harsher than intended.

"About five seconds, just about when I reached you. The blood gave it away, and you shouldn't have been injured so much; but he who attacked you was young and quite excited at his first target," said the vampire, who was staring at me intently.

"What's your name?" I said out of nowhere.

"Edward," he replied simply.

Nodding absentmindedly, trying to filter through all the information, I asked, "You didn't lunge for me? My blood is rather sweet and to be surrounded by such copious amounts..." I trailed off; it was obvious what I meant.

Edward hesitated and then told me, "Yes, at first I was tempted, but I am lucky to have nearly as much restraint as Carlisle."

Frowning, I glared at him and snapped, "Yet you did not stand forth when I asked whether you've drunk from a human before." My eyes narrowed and I noticed he flinched under my unwavering gaze.

"Yes, but –" he started, but I cut him off.

"You chose to hunt others, when you had the knowledge and the control to stick to this alternative?" I practically growled my answer. I rendered him speechless and in disgust, I turned my head away.

"Why are you picking on me and me alone? The others have slipped up before too!" he blurted out agitatedly.

"Good point. All of you who have drained humans, were you born into this lifestyle or were you from another coven?" I asked the group at large.

"Born here," answered Edward and the other burly vampire. Jasper answered differently with, "I was born into wars and bloodshed."

"Jasper, since joining this coven, have you attempted your best to stick to the diet?" He nodded in response and I grinned at him. To actively change a vampire's diet was no easy feat and for him to make the choice to change was definitely a big thing. Like from when I bit myself before, I could tell he wanted me, but he was trying so hard to battle his instinctive nature. For that, I respected and understood him to an extent.

"What about you? What's your name, by the way?" I asked the big, dimpled vampire.

"The name's Emmett," he told me with a relaxed shrug.

"So... Emmett. Have you tried your hardest to resist the call of blood?"

"Yes, but I've had a few mistakes along the way," he answered unabashedly.

"How many?" I asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Three."

Quite a reasonable number, but rather bad all the same. Sighing, I turned to Edward and inquired, "So, what about you? How many did you kill?"

He paused and the silence told me all I needed.

"You hunted more than a few, didn't you," I hissed at him. Without allowing him to speak, I spat out, "Murderer."

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**A/N: At the moment, it is still a mess, but soon everything will clear up and the werewolves will come in! And in advance, no, Bella won't hate Edward forever.**

**Did anyone see the two references I made to a very popular sci-fi television show – which I happen to like a lot? Previews for those who get it! :-)**

**Chocolate for reading this, (screw being healthy!).**


	8. Salt Water

**A/N: Yes, that's right, another chapter. Everybody panic. *Laughs*. **

**Umm, I mentioned **_**Doctor Who**_** in the previous chapter. A few people got the references. Oh well, better than none at all. And that's right, I am a **_**Doctor Who**_** fan. :-)**

**Disclaimer: Twilight is under the ownership of Stephenie Meyers. All I own is this lousy laptop that's too small for its own good.**

*******

**Chapter Eight.**

"Listen to me," he finally snapped and yelled at me. My accusation made his hackles rise and I watched as Edward inflated with fury and indignation. "I only hunted the scum of humanity: the rapists, the murderers, the crooks! Their deaths were nothing on the face of the earth. You should be happy that they are gone. Stop judging me, you know nothing!"

"Are you done yet?" I asked calmly. He nodded stiffly in response and I stared him dead in the eyes.

"You did not need to do any of that –" I started to say, but then Edward interrupted.

"If you crossed a murderer or a rapist and you had the ability to stop it, wouldn't you?" he snarled angrily. I rolled my eyes at his interruption. Only seconds before, I had asked if he was done. What an impatient being.

"Of course I would. But not through drinking their blood. You think that in my century of life that I have not had to face this conundrum before?" My voice was a deadly calm. His face froze as he realized that he had unknowingly insulted me.

With a harsh stare, I continued relentlessly, "I knocked them out and gave them to the police anonymously, with plenty of evidence to lock them up for a long time. Why I do this? It's because that gives them a chance to repent – I've come back years later to see some of them helping the community and giving back as much as they could. Sometimes they don't, but their victims and their families get a better sense of closure at the very least. Two wrongs make no right."

"Then why do what you do?" snapped Edward, seemingly shaken at my comment. "Surely hunting vampires does not as much good as you think."

"Shoot all the blue jays you want, if you can hit 'em, but remember it's a sin to kill a mockingbird," I replied cryptically. Harper Lee was a bit of a dull read, but that line really stuck with me from one of her books.

"Are you saying that because we are vampires that we are automatically evil?" For some reason, his tone was no longer challenging, but more intrigued.

"No, it's more the fact that humans are helpless and don't bother us. In fact, they provide intrigue and entertainment through books and the arts. Vampires ... well, they aren't known for giving and they are certainly not helpless," I explained, using my hands to sometimes emphasize points, making sure I didn't move too quickly and hurt myself.

Taking a deep breath, I continued, "Also, they annoy me by being sometimes unjustifiably cruel in their murders, occasional torturers – so they are my blue jays, in a sense. I am not one of you, even though I have your strength, and I can take you down with no regret, but I have enough humanity to make choices that aren't cold or heartless, which is why I stayed calm and listened to you speak."

Edward nodded and the others looked as us intensely as we argued – or was it considered to be more of a philosophical debate?

"But humans kill one another," he noted calmly. Now that he was over his childish rant, the conversation was going somewhere.

"Such is life. Homicide, suicide, all of it is terrible. But humans are aware of these dangers and can take precautions. Yet they cannot run from the world of myths. They do not believe, so I protect them," I answered back easily. "Humanity is a beautiful, terrifying and wonderful thing, and I will not stand by and watch the beauty get snuffed into the dark."

"If you think about it, we are their natural predators. Who gave you the power of God; to choose who lives or dies?" Edward's eyes were becoming more animated, and I found that I was somehow enjoying a conversation with a vampire. How strange the way life works.

"Humans are meant to be reasonably carnivorous – but many choose to become vegetarians, to lessen the pain of noble beasts. If we are presented with the same opportunity to better ourselves, and save countless human lives, why shouldn't we?" I replied. "To answer your other question; nobody gave me my job, but I guess you could say I felt a duty to do it. Yes, I acknowledge I have a little bit of a God complex, but did you acknowledge yours? You also decided you could choose you lived or died."

Frowning a little, Edward answered back, "I never said I didn't have one. I was fully aware of what I was doing. But going back to your first point – humans as our natural prey. Why are you so utterly against that?"

My face furrowed up in thought as I tried to put the right words in my mouth to describe what I wanted to say. "If it was a case of them being our only source of energy and life, I would probably be less upset. But it is not. You claim that a coven can survive with only animals – a feat I am still yet unsure on – but if what you say is true, then all vampires should convert."

"Why do you think this?" Jasper piped into the conversation quietly.

Tilting my head to the side, I pondered some more before saying, "We live off death. Already our lives expand over what is natural and fair. Compare that to the fragile life of a human. They are fascinating and intriguing things that deserve to live their short life to the fullest. If you read a book, a poem, a limerick, sung a song, watched a film; you can see just how amazing they are. Totally unlike any other creature."

Edward took my pause as a sign to continue. "You act like they don't do anything to us. Every step we take near them sets our throats aflame. Can you judge some for wanting to quench the burning?"

"Yes I can, and I will," I said instantly. They looked mildly taken aback at my words, but I didn't wait for their responses. "I experience the burn as much as you do, and I take it without complaining. This is the price for living forever. Drinking up the live sources of so many other creatures. Their blood is how we stay alive for that much longer."

Silence followed as they mused over my words. Over my life, I had thought this through countless times, but this was the first time I had spoken my mental ramblings aloud.

Pausing, I muttered quietly, "But I guess I should not have judged you so quickly, Edward."

The corner of his mouth rose as he appraised what I had just said. "Was that an apology?"

"Nope, but that's as close as you're going to get," I quipped. The tension in the room was still thick, but somehow it had dissipated somewhat.

"Now, it is time for more important matters rather than the trivial talk of life and meaning," I yawned dismissively, but I quickly shook my head awake. "I need to talk to whatever the hell attacked me."

"Are you sure that's safe?" asked Rosalie in what seemed like an almost taunting voice. _I like the spark in this one_, I though with a grin.

"The dog is not going to catch me unawares again. I'll be sure of that," I declared confidently.

"Why do you want to talk to him?" asked Carlisle politely.

If I could, I would have shrugged, but I was learning fast that making my legs or back move would cause a spasm of pain. All I could do for defense was my shield pushing everyone back. In response to Carlisle's question, I said in a light tone, "I'm not too myself. Closure, maybe?"

"I'll go make that call then," he told me as he made his way to the door. But his face turned into one of confusion when he realized that he didn't seem to be able to move. He seemed nice enough, but as leader, I thought it best if he stayed with me. Leaders were thinkers, and I didn't want him going out and plotting when he was out of my watchful gaze. He didn't seem to realize what I was doing, but he was starting to notice that there was a barrier.

Twisting my invisible barrier, I pushed Esme towards the door, and she was halfway there before she seemed to notice her feet moving.

Casually, I called out quietly, "Esme, while you're out there calling my attacker, can you bring me some salt water? I need to clean my wounds." Esme seemed the nicest and the most ... motherly, so I hoped that I could trust her with this. She nodded with mild confusion as she went through the door. Half of her knew she was moving for a reason, but she wasn't sure of what the reason was. So her mind latched onto my suggestion with ease.

Carlisle didn't seem to notice what I was doing, but Edward's eyes narrowed infinitesimally towards me. I pretended not to notice, which was made easier when Carlisle questioned why I needed salt water instead of medicine.

"Medicine doesn't mix well with me," I revealed reluctantly. "From experience, salt water works best at removing venoms."

"Interesting," mused Carlisle, but my attention was diverted when Esme re-entered the room after a quiet knock, carrying with her a bucket of salt water, a towel and a large burly man following behind her. Esme carefully set the bucket close to me, but stayed a respectful distance away, realizing I didn't like close contact much.

But my attention was soon diverted to the new addition to the group of the supernatural.

The man was odd in demeanor and shape, his body muscled and tall, unnatural for a human, unless they were on steroids. As if he was not used to the body, his actions were less graceful, clumsier than one would think. His skin was tan, a beautiful brown, golden and vibrant. The man – or was it creature? – had an incredibly short buzz cut, but I could see from the dim light that the small amount of hair he had was shiny and black.

He looked nervous, and was tense – rightly so, considering the amount of vampires in the room. His large hands were clenched tightly into fists, and his shoulders were hunched over, and I assumed that he was feeling threatened, especially judging by the way he was shaking.

What intrigued me most was his face. It was not overly beautiful, but more natural. His basic structure was of that of a man, but it didn't seem like he had grown into it fully. A boy in an adult's body. The growth spurt must have been disorientating.

A child. I couldn't be forever mad at a child's mistake. The wet thumping of his heart made me want to sink my teeth into something warm and alive, but the smell that permeated into the room made me forget all that. The smell was exactly like the one that I smelt before my back ripped to shreds, albeit a bit more human, but it made me instinctively flinch away.

Like a war torn soldier coming home from the battlefields, some tiny things set me off. I suffered mild PTD – posttraumatic disorder. For example, the sound of a high heels clacking on wet pavement made me flinch because a decade or so ago, I was stalked by a vampire in heels. It was terrifying because she followed me at night. She made my hairs stand on end, and for a while the only thing I could hear were the clackity-clack of her heels. The attack was sudden and painful, and it was in my early vigilante days, when I wasn't too experienced.

So, I belatedly realized that this shape shifter's scent would set me off. What I didn't know was whether it was this specific dog, or the entire species in general. My shield grew stronger with the mild panic setting in and it started pushing outwards, trying to give me space.

But when I looked into his eyes, his dark, brown eyes, I saw concern shining through and it broke through my curtain of fear. Relaxing a bit, I withdrew partially, but still kept a barrier in place.

_He was not a threat_, I reminded myself.

Realizing that he was waiting for me to speak, I cleared my throat and said kindly, in a gentle voice, not wanting to push him too much in this environment (he was shaking so much), "How did you get here so fast?"

His eyes widened fractionally, as though he was surprised that I wasn't screaming. Scratching the back of his neck, he told me in a rushed voice, "I had been running outside for a while; I needed to know you were okay."

"That was sweet of you," I said with a little sarcasm. Even though he kind of amused me, reminding me of a boy scared of getting in trouble with his mom, the sting in my back refused to let everything blow over with sweet smiles and fluttering eyelashes.

"You will never know how sorry I am for attacking you," he blurted out suddenly. "I have shamed myself, my tribe and I beg forgiveness. How I could ever rest with ease when I've attacked a human –"

"Whoa, whoa," I interrupted quickly. "Who the hell said I was human?"

"Well, I just assumed with all that blood," he admitted.

Laughing, I said a little manically, "I am no human. Hell, I'm as human you are."

A shocked look replaced his expression and he said, "Still, I'm sorry for attacking you. You don't seem like a threat."

Scoffing, I snorted and said, "Jesus, don't give me that I'm-a-damsel-in-distress crap. I've probably killed more people than you ever will in a hundred years."

"What?" roared the man in front of me, his mood shifting suddenly. "You kill humans like the bloodsuckers?" His frame was clearly shaking and I knew he was at snapping point.

Raising my hands defensively, I cried out, "I kill _vampires_, big boy. Calm the fuck down. I'm on your side." Again, the shocked expression on his face was a little insulting. Come on, was it that unbelievable?

"Can I ask one thing?" He nodded and I continued. "Why exactly did you attack me? Apart from the whole treaty line thing. I mean, couldn't you hear my heartbeat?"

Frowning a little, he said, "It was your smell. You were drenched in the scent of a vampire. That one," he inclined his head to Edward.

"Why the fuck was I drenched in your scent?" I spat at Edward angrily.

"You don't know?" asked the shape shifter.

"No," I answered him. "I kind of only woke up a bit before. The details of everything are still a little blurry."

"Well, I found you asleep in the forest, so I brought you back here," explained Edward quickly and succinctly.

"Wow, that just explains everything!" I exclaimed, my voice absolutely dripping with sarcasm.

The brown eyed man, scowled and snarled, "So you see a seemingly human girl in the woods, fast asleep, and you decide to bring her to your house? As what; an afternoon snack?"

"No!" cried out Edward, his voice brimming with frustration. "It's just that ... you were special."

"No shit, Sherlock," I snap. "I'm not human, of course I'm an oddity."

"Seriously, the treaty says you aren't meant to harm humans," growled the yet-unnamed individual.

"Cool it," I tried to placate him with my voice. "They didn't actually hurt me. I was the one who jumped out of the window and _then_ you hurt me." He blushed as he remembered and looked chagrined as I called him out.

"I am so sorry about that, you know I am, don't you? I just got overexcited when I thought I would finally kill a vampire, and I didn't think –" he started to babble nervously, but I waved his apologies off. Words were nothing without re-enforcement. I knew I would have usually yelled my lungs out at the fact that this guy ripped my back open, but for starters, my lung was still damaged and secondly, there was something about this kid that made me go soft.

"You can shut up with the apologies. Actions speak louder than words, and I have something planned for you so you can help me there," I explained.

When he had calmed, I smiled a little and said, "Hi. Nice to meet you. I'm Bella Swan, vampire slayer extraordinaire."

Grinning at me, realizing I was giving him the chance to fully repent, he waved and replied, "I'm Jacob Black, second-in-command of the La Push pack. Nice to meet a brother-in-arms in the war against vampires. But I guess I should call you a sister-in-arms, huh?"

"You guess right," I chuckle, shaking my head in amusement.

*******

**A/N: I swear, Bella will be leaving the basement soon. She has a few issues to flesh out with Jacob, and then she's good to start with the recovery effort.**

**Note of warning: I have no idea at all whether I'm making this an Edward/Bella story or a Jacob/Bella story. Just so you know. Look back, I haven't misled you anywhere – I have never stated the pairings of this story. So make no assumptions...**

**Cookies for reading and reviews are muffin worthy!**


	9. Washing Wounds

**A/N: Whoa, calm down people! Some of you are really against the Jacob/Bella thing. Remember – I still am not sure of the main pairings at this point, but I do not appreciate people telling me that my story will "turn to shit" if I happen to choose that path. I AM TEAM SWITZERLAND. Neutral territory. Both pairings are cool with me, 'kay?**

**Let the story now continue. *Random happy dance*.**

**Disclaimer: Grr, I am tired of repeating myself. Twilight. Is. Owned. By. Stephanie. Meyer. Deal with it!**

*******

**Chapter Nine.**

Sighing, I turned to Alice and stated, "You claim that you won't turn me in, but just to guarantee some silence while I'll get better, I'll make you a deal." Alice cocked her head to the side, curious to my sudden offer. "If you keep your traps shut, and I fully heal, I will tell Alice everything I know about her."

Alice's eyes widened at my proposition, and she hurriedly nodded in acquiescence. The others surrounding her agreed too, as I knew they would. After all, they were a coven that seemed oddly friendly to one another. I guess they wanted to make Alice happy, or at the very least, know what Alice's past consisted of.

"Right then, we have an agreement," I said in a final tone. The gentle prodding that I had felt in the back on my mind suddenly got a whole lot stronger and I winced. Just because my shield was reflecting the prodding, did not mean I wouldn't feel it.

Wincing again at another sharp prod, I asked the crowd at large, "Which of you are the talented one? 'Cause I must ask you to _stop the prodding_!"

"What are you talking about?" Carlisle asked, his eyes intently trained on me, something hidden behind his calm façade.

"I'm not stupid," I hissed, and the prodding faded, going almost all the way into the background. "One of you are using your ability on me!" I could feel the prodding, and it, quite frankly, pissed me off. "I thought we were on a truce or something."

Jacob straightened up and turned to the Cullens and scowled at Edward. "That bloodsucker there –" he pointed to Edward, "– can mind read. The other one –" he then moved his finger to Jasper, "– can change emotions. Oh, and his mate can see the future."

I had seen too many talented vampires in my lifetime to be overly shocked. There was mild surprise at the number congregated here, but otherwise, I was cataloging ways I could turn their advantage against them in a fight – the idea of me killing them was yet to be ruled out.

Clasping my hands into my lap, I slowly accepted the information, and looked at them carefully. "That explains a lot," I finally said, breaking the queer silence that had befallen the room at the revelation. "But how, pray tell, Jacob, did you know about all that?"

"Part of the treaty we have," clarified Jacob. "They have to tell us if they can do anything 'other'."

I made a non-committal noise and turned to Alice with a coy grin. "That makes sense of a lot of your past, you know? That power is pretty much your entire problem." And indeed it shed some light on why the poor girl was coveted so. Her power, under the wrong influences, could have turned deadly.

A weapon. She was a weapon. They all were. Strong, gifted weapons wrapped up all nice like, camouflaged by ideals of beauty and perfection. What bullshit. Perfection was only a misguided ideal, a false image created by society at whole, when reality dictated that such a vision is impossible. All those vampires were flawed as the next person, nothing close to perfection. None of them could be perfectly happy. If we were all happy, we'd be six feet under, feeding the worms.

Immortality was definitely overrated. If you could live forever, what did you have to live for? I barely had a meaning to my life apart from getting rid of vampires, there was nothing really tying me to this world. Sometimes I wondered what the void would be like, what death would be like. A relief? More pain? Or nothing?

Personally, I would hate to have the ability to see the future. It would probably make me more cynical than now, something that would be no easy task to accomplish. Just knowing what would or could occur would probably make me go insane. _Which is more or less the reason why Mary Alice here went to the nut house_, I thought without humor.

Alice's eyes widened, and I noticed that Jasper had tightened his grip around her waist. Rolling my eyes, I turned to both Edward and Jasper, and snarled threateningly, "Stop trying to break me. My protection is stronger than anything you've seen. Don't push your luck."

Goddamn vampires with powers. I've seen one bring an entire community of humans to their knees by emitting a high pitched whistling that was near impossible to think through. I had to kill her when she was busy draining a human.

There was a vampire I encountered in Estonia, who could make people lose all control of their main limbs—legs and arms—which he would then use to make the person beat themselves to death. It was sickening, and thus I made his death just as painful.

Another horror story was this one vampire who could create mass hallucinatory states in creatures. He made entire towns kill each other—for _fun—_as he made horrible pictures turn up in their mind's eye. It was nearly too easy to take him down though – his confidence in his abilities was ultimately his downfall.

One of the worst gifted vampires I had ever met was someone who reminded me of the Pied Piper. She sang so beautifully, her voice drew quite a following. But what sickened me was that she lured only children, her sweet voice like the Siren's song, sending masses of innocents to their deaths.

Not only did they get unnatural strength, beauty, and longevity of life, they could occasionally receive a little extra help. Where was the fairness in that? Then again, I spoke as though I could not get grouped into the category of monster – I was fully aware of what I was, and I hated it and loved it.

Hated it for being evil incarnate and loving it for being able to protect those who cannot protect themselves.

But for the moment, I had to concentrate on self-preservation, and helping myself recover was my priority.

Turning to Jacob, I grimaced and told him reluctantly, "I need you to clean my back with the salt water."

"Why get the dog to do it? Why not my father or one of my sisters?" interrupted Edward, protesting my request.

Scowling angrily at him, I snapped, "I'd rather the hands of my attacker touch me than willingly have the icy touch of a vampire caress me ever again." Even now, I remembered how my father used to stroke my chin, always grinning at me because he was so foolishly proud of his "accomplishment".

"Your kindness, yes, was quite out of the ordinary for vampires, but don't think that will automatically warm me to your species just quite yet. There are things your people have done that I cannot even describe," I grumbled, rubbing my face with my hand.

Visions of countless deaths passed my eyes, the victims of murder by the hands of the cruelly supernatural. I saw both the humans and the vampires. And I sympathized with the humans so much more.

"You should not lump us with the majority. We are different!" protested Edward loudly.

"Then let your actions speak louder than your incessant yells," I snapped.

"Calm down, please," Jasper intervened, his hands raised in a sign of peace. Releasing a heavy breath, I nodded, showing that—for now—I would back down.

"Go," I muttered tiredly, flicking my wrist in the direction of the door. "This isn't a peep show." Jacob moved closer to me, full of apprehension, while the others filed out silently, looking a little taken aback by my sudden outburst.

I wasn't sure, but I thought that I heard Emmett chuckle to Edward, "Dude, you've met your match."

When the door closed, I muttered, "Close your eyes." He did so quickly and for good measure, he turned around, a gesture that I appreciated.

Ripping off the bandages led a round of intense cursing, the air stinging and aggravating the wounds. Lying down face first, I grunted, "Clean my back with the salt water, will you?"

I heard Jacob gulp, but there was a rustling of noise, a splash of water, and then the burning in my back started. As gently as he could, he was washing away his venom, but I couldn't help but let out a moan of pain, my fists clenched tightly in restraint.

"I'm sorry," gasped out Jacob finally, his voice filled with deep remorse. Quickly, I ripped off some metal from the bedpost and squashed it into a ball shape, using like a stress reliever toy, squeezing it for all it was worth.

"Just hurry up, please," I snarled, not intentionally antagonistic, but the pain was clouding my actions and judgment. Quickly, the metal had lost any signs of its original form, resembling nothing more than a lump of silvery-gray.

As he washed away his marks, I could feel my skin and muscle begin to stir to life, reattaching bonds with the other side. But there was much work to do if I wanted to heal. Strings of curse words left my mouth; some so vulgar it would make a sailor blush.

But throughout it all Jacob was surprisingly gentle for such a big guy, his touch soft, compensating slightly for the burn of the salt water.

He started making conversation, trying to distract me from the pain. "So, are you some kind of avenging angel? You know, saving humanity from the baddies?"

Grunting, I sat up a bit, propping myself up on my elbows, holding the blanket off the bed to my chest as I thought. "Angel is an ever changing archetype. And it depends on whose point of view we're talking about." Pausing to swear at a sudden burst of pain, I continued in an effort to explain. "To an enemy, your guardian angel would be the demon that wants to end everything they know. I am a protector of humans, but to vampires? I'm their worst nightmare."

"But you are a good guy like us, right?" inquired Jacob, his voice deep and husky, gruff with what I thought was fatigue.

"Well," I hesitated in answering, my mind taken from the pain for a brief second as I mulled over a response. "It's like what I said earlier. Good and bad are forever changing, the winner usually writing the history, proclaiming themselves as the 'good side'. I fight for humans, so they would consider me 'good'. Yet to the Volturi, and many of the vampire community, I kill their brethren, so I would be counted as 'bad'."

"That's mildly confusing," Jacob confessed honestly.

"I know," I replied not unkindly. "But there are two sides to every story. I am incredibly biased for my own personal reasons, but not so much so to not realize that the vampires wouldn't consider my actions understandable or noble. Hell, some humans might empathize with vampires if they could see how I killed them. Individual's points of view, along with their beliefs, skewer the way they see things."

For a moment, Jacob pondered my response before saying, "Hmm, I think we are good."

"Obviously we would back our own side," I tell him, gritting my teeth as he passed over a particularly sensitive area on my lower back. "But yeah, I think we're doing the right thing," I added in an undertone.

"What about the Cullens?" As he washed my shoulders, he waited for my thoughts.

Frowning, I replied as honestly as I could, "They are a gray area for me. I mean, they are changing their ways, using an 'alternate feeing method'. Yet so many of them have killed people, and their leader, Carlisle, seems to have an unnatural need to change humans. His collection of vampires reminds me slightly of the Volturi. A clan of powerful vampires all residing together in one group is just unnatural."

Suddenly, Jacob blurted out, "Would you kill them?" For a split second, the question hung in the air, the atmosphere tense.

Squeezing my metal ball, I whispered, "I would hesitate, but in the end, probably."

"I never knew there was someone out there who fought vampires like we did," mused Jacob, deftly changing the subject as he gently washed my back. Now that some of the venom was receding, the pain was not as unbearable as before.

"Knowing is irrelevant to existing," I muttered, now confronted with a pounding headache, my attention split. "I never knew a pack of shape-shifters existed in La Push, but here you are."

I had the feeling that Jacob was nodding, but I dare not turn around to confirm that in the case it would aggravate my back any further.

"Why do you do it?" he asked finally. "Why fight a battle that you were never really part of in the first place? You are neither vampire, shape-shifter nor human."

"We may be more alike than you think," I dodged the question with a cryptic answer.

"Don't skip the question," Jacob caught onto what I was doing.

"Same reason as you – protect humans," I answered tiredly, still playing around with the metal stress ball.

"No—I mean—I have ties to a pack and a community, they keep me fighting. Where are your ties that keep you going?" he prodded gently, his voice curious but not pushy.

Groaning, I felt a single tear drop as I told him harshly, "The memory of my mother's bloodied body is a pretty strong motivator." Jacob fell silent, but I felt an odd comfort in his presence, even if he was searing the wounds in my back.

"You lost your mom?" he asked quietly, empathy evident in his voice.

Bowing my head, my hair covering my face, which was scrunched up in pain—both emotional and physical—I nodded mutely once. There was a heartbeat of silence before he told me in a near silent whisper, "I did, too."

I wondered why we were talking about this, suddenly uncomfortable with the unsaid intimacy of this situation. Clearing my throat, I shook my head, trying to indicate that I didn't want to talk anymore. In the case Jacob didn't get the message, I flattened the piece of metal into a rectangular slab and bit it, using it to muffle my noises of pain.

After what felt like hours, but was probably only several minutes, Jacob finally proclaimed, "Finished."

Gasping, tears running down my face, I gingerly got up, making sure that I was fully covered. Stretching carefully, I felt much better. In a hoarse voice, I asked Jacob to get my clothes. He handed my torn clothes to me, but I inclined that he had me my bag. Getting some clean clothes, I realized that I would need some bandages.

Wordlessly, as though anticipating my needs, Jacob blindly handed me some bandages—still politely averting his eyes—from a stack of medical supplies that slipped my attention earlier. Quickly as possible, I wrapped myself up again, nice and tight, and slipped on a light, breezy sun dress to make moving as easy as possible, and some black tights underneath. I also opted to go barefoot.

Those few movements to get dressed, although brief, were painful. At least it was better without venom circulating my system. Jacob's poison was well designed. Being part-vampire, vampire's venom only scarred me. But as Jacob's people needed to protect others from vampires, I would assume that their claws are coated with something that prevents wound from healing properly in vampires, and I guess inadvertently, hybrids, too.

Tapping Jacob on the shoulder, I told him he could look now. When he spun around, he raised an eyebrow at my dress, which were covered in a sporadic design of overlapping multi-colored freesias. The only reason I got the damned floral pattern on the dress was to play up the whole "innocent human" thing I've got going as bait.

Telling him as much, Jacob only shook his head at me, amusement dancing in his eyes. Scowling, I growled, "What's so funny about me in a dress?"

Laughing aloud now, a booming boisterous noise, he explained between laughs, "You, Bella, the vampire slayer of the century, run around in a dress?"

Punching him—hard—in the arm, I snapped without real anger, "Shut the hell up, dog."

"Aww, that's not fair," complained Jacob. "I can't make up adequate insults if I don't know what you are."

"I'm _awesome_, that's what," I shot back quickly, a grin spreading on my features at this easy banter. It had been quite a while since I had talked, really _talked_, with somebody. Not just chatting casually in the passing, but held a conversation with them.

"Sure, sure," he chuckled, his body shaking with suppressed laughter. Rolling my eyes, I changed my mindset, filling my body with determination. I had to get out of bed.

Jacob immediately noticed my demeanor change and when he understood what I was preparing to do, he offered his hand out as support. Waving his offer off, I said, "I can do this myself."

Five minutes later, it was clear I _couldn't_ do it without help. But I didn't want to ask for it. It took another ten minutes before I realized that course of action was inevitable.

Frowning at Jacob, I finally admitted, "I can't get up without help."

"Where did all your confidence go?" asked Jacob, raising a teasing eyebrow.

"Lunch break," I snapped. "Now be a gentleman and help me up."

He offered his hand, but as I gripped it tightly, noting his body temperature was just below mine, he whispered, "Don't tell the guys I'm being nice – I have a reputation to uphold you know!"

Snorting, I replied, "No worries, Prince Charming. I won't tell a soul." He blew out a breath in mock relief and I just laughed lightly.

Holding a deep breath, I got up, but Jacob held a lot of my weight. It felt like a hollow victory. I needed help for practically everything, and that wasn't me: I wanted freedom, independence. Sighing heavily, I made my first steps across the room, each one painful and slow, but Jacob showed an inordinate amount of patience helping me.

Finally, we made it to the door. Time to get out of the basement and get some fresh air. And some animal blood, too, come to think about it. I was thirsty, hungry and injured. Not a good combination.

My concentration was skewered and I needed blood. Badly. May God—who I doubted existed—have mercy on anyone that crosses my path during this period of time...

*******

**A/N: There's some Jacob bonding time with Bella; Edward's turn will come soon enough...**

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	10. Blood Velvet

**A/N: Sorry for the slow update. No excuse for that. But please enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: Twilight is a story not written by me. I make no money from it. **

*******

**Chapter Ten.**

The first thought I had when I passed through those doors was a slight disorientation at the space. I had never been in such a large indoors space. As best as I could, I avoided other people's homes, so generally all I saw in regards to residence was the cramped-but-cozy abodes that I had lived in. I also avoided large populated areas that were situated indoors, because it was usually difficult for me to escape if I needed to run from something, usually a vampire.

The colours of the room were subtle, like the decorator was against drawing attention to any one section of wall or carpet. Faded browns, light yellows, pale cream; it was like being in a waiting room at a hospital. Tasteful enough, but kind of boring. It was vividly opposite to my style. I needed colours, bright reds against startling whites, glaring yellows splashed with fluro greens. But since I rarely stayed for too long in any one place, and usually in rented accommodation, I've rarely seen the need to redecorate.

Jacob gingerly helped me walk to the padded wooden chair that resided conveniently near the door. Out of all the vampires, only Carlisle stayed to watch my despairingly slow walk. I was thankful that my audience was kept small.

My eyes were generally fixed on the vampire or Jacob, who was helping me shift into my seat, but I saw the room clearly. It was brightly illuminated, sparsely furnished; apart from the chair I was sitting in, there was a small high table with some fresh daises bunched in a plain, light purple vase. The only remotely interesting inanimate object was the painting hanging on the wall, directly opposite me, surrounded by nothing else, framed in a stark black wood.

The painting was done on black velvet, an odd canvas material choice because it was considered by the majority of artisans to be too difficult to work with, and the artist used a crimson colour to paint the image of a faded cherub in the corner, taking about a third of the space, leaving the rest strangely blank. The angel was mainly outlines, rendering it to appear faded.

It was amazingly done, I thought, especially the way the reds were hard to see made the viewer look closer, and really take in the image. My eyes were drawn to the tears on the angel, making it seem as though it was crying blood. It's small wings were also dripping with something. Because the artist stuck with red paint, it also appeared as blood.

Along with the ebony frame, the image appeared almost to be a gaping black hole, threatening to suck the brightness of the room into the void, a crying angel-child to send you off. Overall, the effect was breathtaking.

By the time I sat down, I was panting a little, but the pain was building. _There was no way I could move, let alone hunt, in this state!_

"Jacob," I said tiredly. "Can you pop down to the butcher's? Ask them for some animal blood. They'll give it to you, I think. Some places vary. But can you go ask?" He nodded, and made a move to go, but then he froze, in the process of rethinking something.

"Wait. Are you sure you want me to leave you alone here?" He made no effort to lower his voice, already aware that everyone in the house could hear if they paid attention.

Shaking my head, I snorted. "Sure. Just because I can't walk at the moment doesn't mean I am without protection. You have a treaty or something, right? And I'd like to see a Cullen get near me if they don't want to." Jacob looked confused, and understandably so, seeing as neither him or the others were really sure on what I was able to do.

Deciding that further protest was futile, Jacob left the house hurriedly, his quick walk morphing into a run as he made his way through the airy hall that was situated to my left. He spared me one glance before disappearing.

"Why not get one of us to get you an animal to drink from?" asked Carlisle as soon as Jacob's footfalls faded into silence.

"I am too weak to kill a thrashing animal. Also, I am a messy eater, which would probably make one of you guys crazy with the amount of blood. Actually, I'd probably aggravate my wounds and open some fresh sweet blood into the air that way, too," I explained without preamble, my eyes sliding past him and once again fixing their attention on the painting. Pausing, I added an afterthought, "And I don't want your help."

I wanted no one's help. Even asking Jacob for assistance was killing me.

"Why not? It wouldn't make us feel obliged in the least," said Carlisle in a reasonable tone.

Without taking my eyes from the picture, I simply said, "I don't want your help because I don't want to feel like I owe you something. So far, I've taken your kindness as repayment for kidnapping me. I need nothing further now that I am conscious." Hell would freeze over before I would owe a vampire a favor.

I could feel Carlisle's want to protest almost as easily as I could feel the air on my skin. But thankfully he dropped the subject, instead talking about the painting that so captured my attention. "What do you think about the message the artist is trying to send?"

"Huh?" I turned my head to the vampire. "Message?" Looking back at the image, I tilted my head, as if that would change the way I saw the image. "I guess I see a fallen angle, cast away from the gates of Heaven, damned for his sins." I didn't think my answer through, but as the words poured out of me, I knew them to be undeniably true. The crying, bleeding angel, mixed with the dark background, something that looked like a pit of darkness and despair... Yes, my answer made sense.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Carlisle's face change into one of brief amazement. "You are possibly the first one to immediately see the exact message that the artist was trying to communicate," he murmured in a slightly shocked tone.

"Who was the artist?" I asked, my tone colored with mild interest.

As the blond vampire turned and made his way out of the room, he paused for a second, and turned his head to answer, the corners of his mouth tugged slightly upward in the shadow of a smile.

"My son, Edward."

*******

I finished the last container of blood, licking the droplets the droplets that surrounded my mouth. Placing the canister down, I started scratching my tongue with my fingertips, trying to rid myself of the overly salty taste of days old blood. It was obvious to me that the butcher drained this lot from a carcass of old meat, salted so heavily in an effort to preserve it. But the already stale blood was made worse from that.

"What's wrong?" asked Jacob, who was sitting across from me at the kitchen counter, eyeing my actions with an aura of intrigue.

"It's blood alright, good enough to make me feel a little better, but the damn butcher gave you old stuff, packed full of salt. Urgh," I complained bitterly, still scratching my tongue, so my words came out slightly muffled. "Goddamn bitter shit."

"Like coffee, right?" said Jacob lightly, a grin spreading on his face, raising a can of soft drink to his lips.

"Nah, I think coffee is still worse," I told him. I'd stopped scratching my tongue, and started chewing on the wax fruit on the table.

"You know that stuff is for display purposes only?" Jacob pointed out, looking at the wax apple in my hand and then looking at me, his eyes clearly showing that he thought I was crazy. Maybe I was. Or perhaps "eccentric" was a better descriptive.

"I'm just chewing on them to clean my mouth," I told him offhandedly. The chewing was helping; the waxy taste better than the salty one. "Don't fret, 'cause I'm not stupid enough to swallow it. But then again, I've eaten metal before, and that didn't effect me." I spat out the blob of slime-covered wax with perfect aim into the bin.

"When did you have to eat metal?" laughed Jacob in an incredulous tone. "And why would you _want_ to?"

"I didn't want to. It's just that I was once thrown face first into a slab of metal, my teeth ripped some of that up, and in the heat of the moment, I ate some without noticing," I explained after taking another bite of the wax fruit. "I think I can literally say that blood does have that metallic aftertaste."

Jacob laughed again, the noise booming and joyful, honest and true. "Why were you slam-dunked into a sheet of metal?"

"Kinky sex," I answered immediately with a straight face. It was at that moment Jacob was taking a huge gulp of Coke, and with my strange reply, he started spluttering and coughing profusely.

Reaching out to pat him on the back, I chuckled and said, "I wasn't actually having sex, you dumbass. I was fighting with a vampire—what else?" As he regained himself, I noted that I was actually reasonably comfortable in his presence. Maybe it was the humanness that just radiated out of his pores, the loud thumping of his heart, the whooshing noise of his lungs, the heat coming from his body in waves...

But I did not yet trust him with everything I had. He was nice enough, but he did cleave up my back with his claws, so I thought I was entitled to a little reserve.

Looking at his face, I saw that two pockets of red were blooming on his cheeks, hard to see with his chestnut-brown skin colour, but still there.

"Haven't heard of sex before?" I asked sardonically, one eyebrow raised questioningly.

"Of course I had!" exclaimed Jacob defensively. "I was just taken by surprise, that's all. I mean, of all the things to say, I did not think you'd say that."

Laughing dryly, I asked, "How old are you?"

"Sixteen."

My eyes widened and my lips parted in surprise. Giving him a quick once over with my eyes, I could not see anything that implied that he was so young. Sure, his face was round, youthful, but not displaying characteristics of a sixteen year old. Even his eyes held depth to them, as if he'd been alive longer than his birth certificate declared.

"Hey, it's not like I'm a child or anything," protested Jacob quickly, his tone defensive.

Snorting, I retorted without antagonism, "In the eyes of the state—hell—in the eyes of the _world_, you are a child by law. Ha, you can't even legally drink or drive!"

"Well, how old are you then, Grandma?" snapped Jacob, the red in his cheeks deepening.

"Hmm," I paused. "I'm not too sure, but definitely older than you."

"How come you don't know how old you are?" Jacob asked disbelievingly.

"Years pass me by in the blink of an eye, and I have more worrying things to concern myself over than trivial stuff like keeping track of my age." Jacob stared at me with a blank look, and I rolled my eyes, before saying, "Yeah, but the last time I checked, I had passed more than a century of existence."

"Wow, you are _old_." He stressed the last word, and I slapped him on the back of the head.

"Thanks," I snarled, as he rubbed his scalp, a fake look of pain on his face. "That's what every gal wants to hear, you know."

Before he could say anything in reply, a faint howl pierced the air, but Jacob's face swiveled in that direction as if he had a homing beacon in his head.

"I've got to go; that's Sam calling me." Noticing the blank look on my face, he elaborated hurriedly, "That's the alpha, the top of command."

Nodding, I waved him off, telling him to go. His dark, round eyes hesitated; it was clear he didn't want to leave me alone. "Just go," I told him, daring him to insinuate that I was incapable to be left alone like a naughty child. But a howl rent the air again, louder this time, and rushed off to answer the call.

Using the crutches that Carlisle insisted I have, I hobbled over to the lounge room, intending to watch some television to pass the time. Instead I found Edward staring intently at a chessboard, halfway through a game. But he was alone. He was playing against himself.

_That is so depressingly sad, even for a monster._

Edward's head snapped up, his face contorted in an angry scowl. The irises of his eyes were nearing black and an angry brow shrouded them.

"Oops, did I say that aloud?" I asked nobody in particular.

"It's not because I'm a monster. It's because I'm too good to play with anyone else except Alice, and she's busy at the moment." He growled quietly and turned back to his game. I noticed that he never denied that he wasn't a monster or anything. Odd.

The room was open, airy, still a disconcerting feeling, and was still decorated in the same bland colour scheme, except there were more vases of flowers in this room, not to mention some pretty fancy bits of technology. That television must have been like 150 inches across...

Making my way over to him, my legs shaking the entire way, I collapsed into the soft reclining chair across from the chessboard. Resting the crutches to the side of me, my hands—now free—darted out and readjusted the pieces to start a new game. Edward protested, but I shushed him, moving a pawn forward two spaces to start a new game.

Looking up, I saw that he looked pissed, and I just said, "Oh come on. Playing a game with someone else is surely better than being a little loner. And if you ever wanted to revisit that particular sad game, you have a picture perfect memory."

Finally, Edward responded, moving a knight forward. I grinned at the move and the game began. Our movements were speedy, rarely a pause between them. Our hands would have looked like blurs to humans.

I liked this particular set of chess pieces. The entire thing was made of either pristine white stone or ebony marble, both cut cleanly and with obvious skill. Set in the eyes of the horses was two small diamonds (for the white pieces) and two small rubies (for the black pieces).

It had been some time since I last played, so I made some blunders early in the game, but I soon got into my groove and got better as time progressed. I'd just lost my last bishop to Edward's knight, but it was worth it for the opening to tackle his black rook out of the game.

"You're good," commented Edward lightly, his voice monotone, neither surprise nor praise passing through his tone. I raised my eyebrows; this was the first time either of us spoke since the game began.

"So are you," I replied politely, but honestly. I hesitated my hand over a pawn, but instead moved another to remove one of his own pawns. His pale hand quickly shot out and took away my soldier from the game. I knew that would happen. I planned it so that I could get closer to his bishop.

"I guess I should have guessed that you'd be skillful," he mused gently, moving his queen in a threatening direction, too close to my king for my liking. In retaliation, I called moved my knight to attack his king, the white horse head clacking down on the board loudly.

"I like checkers better," I told him indifferently.

"Really?" Edward finally displayed some kind of surprise, even though it was a subtle reaction. "But chess is more complex, and needs more concentration to play."

"Exactly why I like checkers better." I began moving my pieces in a trap planned to be set in thirty-seven moves—if everything went to plan. "Actually, if we counted every board game ever made, I like Monopoly the best."

"I never would have pinned you for the financial type," remarked Edward as his bishop took away one of my remaining pawns.

"I don't like it for the money or the property buying," I explained. "I like the colours."

At this, I was unsurprised to see Edward to raise his head and look at me like I was stupid. "Colours is _not_ something you can use as a reason to why a game is your favourite," he told me strongly.

Raising both eyebrows, I snorted ungracefully and asked, "What makes you the boss of me? I can like any game I want for any reason I desire." Glancing down at the board, I swiftly moved my queen diagonally across the black squares three spaces, and exclaimed, "Checkmate!"

Edward's eyes darted down to the board in disbelief, before his face quickly smoothed out. "Well played."

"I know."

"Pride is a sin," Edward said, not looking at me, instead concentrating on replacing all the chess pieces.

"Yeah, why would that bother me?" I asked with some surprise. "I mean, I've pretty much broken all of the seven main sins."

"Hmm... Wrath?"

"Murdering vampires not good enough to break that one or something?" I chuckled. His eyes connected with mine, and I thought I saw a spark of dark humor in them, but as quickly as it appeared, it went.

"Okay," replied Edward. "Envy?"

"I envy normal humans all the time." Something close to understanding passed over his face like a shadow before going.

"What about gluttony?" he asked with a faint smirk.

"Because of my higher metabolism, I have to eat like a pig if I wanted human food to stabilize my systems," I told him unabashedly.

He said nothing, but looked intrigued at what I told him. "How about sloth?"

"You've seen me sleep. Even carrying me around did nothing to wake me. And I can be exceptionally lazy when the feeling hits me."

"Avarice?"

"Okay, maybe not that one. I don't want, nor do I need excessive amounts of money." Pausing, I added as an afterthought, "Though isn't it ironic that the Catholic Church calls that out as a sin, when they themselves have millions, possibly billions, of dollars worth of art in Vatican City?" At that, a laugh barked out of Edward, and I rolled my eyes at the sound.

I knew what the last sin was, and so did he. "Lust," he muttered, lowering his voice as if embarrassed. I don't know how he could be embarrassed as I was the one answering the questions.

"Yep, had that before." Now I noticed his eyes were all black. How odd. "What?" I asked defensively. "It's not like I acted on it." Anyway, _everybody_ must have, at one point, experienced lust for someone or something. It wasn't surprising.

"So you've never had sexual intercour—" Edward never got to finish his question, because I took the intuitive and slapped him hard across the face. Then I slapped him again with the other hand. His eyes were wide and a hand rested on his cheek where I slapped him, a look of surprise and shame painted on his features.

"That last question was totally inappropriate. I am not some floozy who would kiss and tell."

"I apologize for my actions. They were uncalled for," said Edward with what sounded like sincerity. My eyes narrowed, and my lips curled back in an almost-snarl.

"But," I stalled before continuing, "if you must know, I haven't. Not because I couldn't, but because I wouldn't. I _can_ have children—" according to my father's research "— but there is no way I would bring up a child into my world."

With that final statement, I hobbled out of the room, my crutches' clacking muffled by the carpet, but somehow sounding loud in the silence that followed me.

*******

**A/N: Reason why Bella talked so much? She didn't realize it, and because she didn't reveal anything terribly important—in her opinion, anyway. Like she didn't tell them about her fighting abilities or her powers, so she didn't feel threatened. **

**Link to my terrible attempt to do a graphic of the cherub painting:  
****http://i728[dot]photobucket[dot]com/albums/ww286/Tellytubby101/CryingCherub[dot]jpg**

**It's terrible, awful, hideous, (I'm not the best with computer technology), but check it out so you have a **_**vague**_** idea of what I wanted the picture to look like. **

**Love comments. Please leave some. :-)**

**Have some cake for reading. Everybody likes cake! Well, most people, I think...**


	11. Stolen Light

**A/N: When I wrote in the previous chapter that Bella said, "I can have children—according to my father's research" it DID NOT mean that he raped her. The tests were easy enough: Bella has periods, they did a scan of her stomach using an extra strong x-ray, and everything inside her looked alright, etc. Nothing overly intrusive.**

**And the rating has changed. Not due to the expectancy of smut or anything, but for violence and language.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. Just borrowing it for a bit. But I wonder what would happen if I didn't put a disclaimer in...**

*******

**Chapter Eleven.**

As I hobbled past the stairs, walking unsteadily with the aid of crutches, I saw a crouching Rosalie eying me with distinct anger. I had no idea as to what I did, but then again, maybe she just hated me for me. Wouldn't surprise me. But I wouldn't—couldn't, to be more exact—attack first, so I kept moving, thinking about exploring the house.

Moving hurt, but pain was something I was used to. In my childhood, it was emotional pain. In later life, it was physical. None of it was new.

The sound of a clearing through pulled me from my thoughts. Lazily, slowly, I turned my head to look at Rosalie with an air of indifference. She huffed at my actions, something that I noted as immature. If I had to kill her, it wouldn't be too hard. All I would have to do is anger her, and it wouldn't be a stretch to the imagination to imagine her losing control in that fury. Simple, clean, no worries. Too bad I was temporarily disabled.

Staring at her, I resisted the urge to blink, and I guess after about two minutes of my dead gaze, I had unsettled Rosalie enough to force her to speak first.

"So, you beat Edward in a game of chess" she started, in what I perceived as a haughty tone. "Makes sense since he can't mind read off you to cheat..." Her hands smoothed out non-existent wrinkles in her tight red halter top, fixing it to cover up the top of her crisp faded jeans.

After a second, I finally realized that she was fidgeting. The sight was odd. Vampires rarely fidgeted. They could stay as still as stone with ease. Huh. This coven must have trained well to achieve such natural looking movements. Usually vampires had jerky or overly smooth movements, noticeable to humans and especially noticeable to me.

The tapping of her foot caught my attention, so I looked up at her. She was looking at me expectantly. "What?" I demanded, annoyed and irritated somewhat by this creature.

"Why are you so rude? I mean, we saved your life, and you treat us with such—"

"Don't lecture me!" I snapped angrily. "You brought me here when I was asleep, kidnapping me really, and you act as if your people are innocent? I can't believe this bullshit!"

"Hey," protested Rosalie with a hint of a snarl, "_I_ didn't want to bring you—Edward and Alice did! They were so curious about how damn freaky you were, so they convinced Carlisle to allow you to wake up here. And look what we got from that! A vampire killer walking our halls. I should just kill you now, save us the trouble!"

Great, this chick was psychotically protective. This was going to be annoying. I could understand that she wanted her "family" safe, but Christ, she was getting on my nerves with her screeching.

"Ha, what an empty threat. I can defend myself with other means, your 'family' would hate to see me in peril—think of Alice—and there's the treaty to think about, too," I listed the reasons off with a grin. "I'd like to see you try, you silly, little girl."

"Calling me—me of all people—a _little girl_?" Rosalie growled at me. "I'm older and more mature than you'll ever be!"

"Being frozen until you're a billion years old doesn't constitute maturing to me," I laughed.

Edward came into the room, eying Rosalie with mild distaste. "Rose," he began in an indifferent voice, "come on, don't go reopening this topic again..." _What topic?_

"Shut the hell up, Edward," snarled Rosalie, now cracking her knuckles threateningly, still looking like she was posing for a cover shoot all the while. I had to admit that was impressive.

"Damn it, why are you so touchy?" I sighed, frustrated now, shifting on my crutches. "Is it because I kill vampires? 'Cause believe me, I don't really feel up to murdering a coven of them at the moment, so no worries."

"Children!" she exclaimed finally, after a moment of heavy pause. "You can have them!"

"Yeah," I confirmed. "So what?" At this offhand comment, she seemed to choke a little, a strange little noise erupting from her throat.

"Uh-oh," I heard Edward mutter, an almost amused sound, but with an undercurrent of warning in his tone. He was leaning casually against the wall, arms folded lazily, watching the scene unfold before his very eyes.

Subdued, she queried in a low voice, "Why wouldn't you want kids?"

"Why do you care?" I snapped.

"Just answer the damn question!" she shot back, the first sparks of anger and frustration dancing in her eyes.

"I'm not the mothering type," I said flatly. "My ... job, for lack of a better word, would probably traumatize them, injure them, or get them killed. I do not want such a burden on my shoulders."

Shifting the crutches under my arms, I continued with, "Also, I have an inkling that they'd be born with the same disorder I suffer." I was referring to my mix of human and vampire genes, not that those bloodsuckers would understand. "Would you want a child if they were forced to be a vampire?"

Edward glanced at me, almost seeming to ask with his eyes, _What's so wrong with you that you wouldn't allow yourself to have kids?_

No, no. I wasn't telling him anything about where I came from. Huh, but maybe I could tell him I was an alien or a fairy or something for a laugh. I mentally noted that down for another day.

As I finished talking, I made a move to walk away, growing uncomfortable around this pushy girl, who seemed to want to know the oddest things. But I froze on the spot when I heard her whisper, "Yes, I would if I could."

Calmly, I informed her, "Immortal children are banned. On this, I wholeheartedly back the Volturi's choice on the matter. It's rare to hear me say that."

"I know they are forbidden," she snarled. "I'm not stupid."

"Sounds to me like you are," I retorted.

"What do you know about it? You have the option of having a child, whereas I do not!"

Something similar to a dry sob left her body. It was strange to see a vampire attempt to cry. Her arm was wrapping itself around her stomach, and her body was quivering. I felt a quick pang of sympathy, but nothing else. She breached the topic with me first, of her own choice, and I bet she knew it would affect her like this.

But really, this panic attack or whatever it is was really random to unleash on me because I could have children.

"I have no option of having a child. I will never mate, nor would I pro-create. This is not a lifestyle a baby should be born into," I told her in a monotone.

"Crying won't help, Rose. Emmett's in the forest with the others, hunting," inserted Edward quickly. "You should go outside to calm down."

Looking her up and down, I said lightly, "If I could make another comment, I think you are too volatile and immature to have a child. Look at you here, breaking down so quickly over something you started." At this her head snapped up, eyes blazing in a torrent of flaming anger.

"How dare you imply—" she started.

"That you would be an unsuitable parent?" I finished for her. "Yes, that may be a bit harsh, but someone should tell you that." Her jaw dropped, and her eyes filled with anguish that quickly turned murderous. Automatically, my feet made to shift into a firmer stance, readying for a fight.

The sound of the front door opening, along with the smell of clean dog—something that mixed the scents of something animalistic and the sweet scent of shampoo or soap—alerted me to the fact that Jacob was back in the house. I felt a little calmer and relaxed on the surface, but my instincts flinched, still remembering the night my back was ripped open.

His hand touched my shoulder. "Back off, bloodsucker," he warned to Rosalie.

"Don't worry, Jacob," I said in a singsong voice. "Dear Rose here was just talking to me. Anyway, she couldn't come near me if she wanted. And there lays the problem for her. She can't get near me." I pushed her back, telling her mind to step back, an evil grin spreading on my face, revealing my pointed teeth.

Pointing at her legs, I suggested to Jacob, "Watch."

Rosalie's torso was stretching out, trying to get near me to land a blow, I guess. However, slowly and surely, her feet were moving back, closer to the staircase, moving back without her own command.

Smiling faintly, I walked off, my crutches clacking obnoxiously, ignoring Rosalie's anger and the strange and wondering looks Edward and Jacob gave me.

*******

Four days of silence from Rosalie. Her immature cold-shouldering just re-enforced what I said. I didn't mind the peace away from her, but I thought it might have made the others turn against me, you know, protect your own and whatnot. But they reacted with varying degrees of understanding to Rosalie's odd behavior.

Carlisle and Esme were seemingly saddened and upset when they learned of our disagreement, so I stayed clear of them for a while. However, they didn't seem to treat me differently at all. Emmett, I rarely saw, because he stayed with Rosalie, and she stayed away from me.

Alice—needing me to learn of her past—and Jasper—who was connected to Alice—kept trying to talk to me, see if I was all right or something. For some reason, Alice kept dropping me clothes, but the only things I would except were the baggy sweatpants and sweatshirts she left; every other outfit was tight fitting and stylish, but on the whole, inconvenient. Edward remained aloof, but we had played another few games of chess together, but usually when Jacob had to do his mandatory tasks for the La Push pack.

Once, I asked Edward about the painting. Sometimes I had found myself wandering back to it, just to stare at it. It intrigued me like nothing else.

"When did you paint that painting near the basement entrance?" I had asked casually in the middle of a riveting game of chess—he refused to partake in a game of Monopoly on the principle that 'colours' was not a good reason to play.

Jacob was currently running through his night shift at La Push, so we had all night long to play a special version of chess that Edward introduced me to. Apparently, his family usually played with multiple boards and multiple sets at once. It was much more difficult and interesting. Usually he won though, having more experience on his side with this version of the game.

"Hmm?" asked Edward, only paying my words half their deserved attention as he snapped up my second-last queen with a well placed pair of rooks and a knight.

Repeating the question, I moved my busiest bishop to remove one of his more important rooks and threaten his main king simultaneously. As he mused over the answer, he rubbed his jaw, and moved his queen forward six paces, protecting his king and threatening my own.

_Damn it!_ I growled and tried to think of a way out of it when he finally answered.

"I was wondering when you'd ask me that from the moment you spoke to my father about it." It still weirded me out that these vampires referred to each other as one big happy family. _Didn't that imply some level of incest?_ I wondered. He started talking and drew the conversation to the forefront of my thoughts.

"I painted that particular one after my rebellious phase. When I went out from home to be a bad guy and slaughter all the naughty humans." He shot me a dark glance accompanied with a sad smirk before looking back down at the multiple boards.

I don't know if I was comfortable talking about mindless slaughter with him, so I deftly asked, "Let me guess, you're the angel that was cast from Heaven into Hell?" I finally moved my bishop and hoped for the best.

"Not really," he responded, shifting his own bishop. "I was just trying to voice my feelings."

"So going back on the 'vegetarian' diet was like getting sent to Hell?" I pursed my lips and sent my knight forward.

"Yeah, to be honest. You drink blood. You know the difference between the allure of animal and human blood." Yeah, and thank any damn holy deity for Jacob finding another more competent butcher to feed me with. The blood was fresher with almost no salt. Still stale bread though, compared to the chocolate cake that is fresh blood.

"Is that why the angel is painted red?" I realized quickly. "To represent blood?"

"It still makes me feel weird that you got the message so quickly," he mused as he executed a perfect 'castling' move. "Sometimes I wonder whether we are on the same wavelength or not. I can't read your mind, but sometimes I think you can read mine."

Frowning, I finally got a pawn to the opposite end of the board and exchanged it for a lost queen. "Mind reading may not be the strangest thing I've seen, but it still unnerves me to know you know what everyone's thinking." He paused and moved his king to the left by two spaces.

"Everyone but you," he pointed out, wincing as I took away a queen of his. The only light in the room was from the fireplace, blazing strongly; it's warmth making me feel sleepy for the first time in days. Edward's face flickered in and out of shadows, eerie in the setting.

"Thank fuck for that," I sighed in response, moving the white queen to the growing pile of discarded pieces. I didn't like the thought of anyone rummaging around in my head.

"Why do you curse so much?" Edward asked me with a strange suddenness.

"Bad role models?" I said, the response coming out more of a question than a statement. "How do you avoid curses?" I asked him in return, with the same curiosity lacing my tone.

"Good role models?" shot back Edward with an uneven grin, one side of his lips tugging higher than the other, leaving it crooked. That was the first time I smiled properly at him, an honest smile with no hidden agendas, showing my front teeth and sharp canines.

That night was a good one. It was the first time I felt fully comfortable around a vampire. Strange, but true.

*******

Except that level of comfort did not transform into any level of trust. I had been here four days, not including the time when I was unconscious or asleep. On the third night, I was getting tired, needing sleep. Usually, I slept one night for every three days. Extending that period was usually bad for me, so I tried to keep to the cycle.

I could not sleep with vampires around, so I had to ask Jacob for some help. Well, Jacob was intent on helping me as much as possible, so it was more me telling him about the issue. I liked how he was repaying me with actions, but sometimes his over protectiveness when it came to the Cullen clan tired me out.

"Jacob," I had said. "Would you be so kind as to sleep with me?" I hadn't thought my words through, but I certainly did then when Jacob started coughing and spluttering. Upstairs, I was sure I heard some booming laughter before it was cut short.

Thumping him on the back, I quickly elaborated, "Not _sex_, you idiot. Actual sleep." With a laugh, I hurriedly informed him of my sleeping patterns, and how the scent of vampires affected my dreams. But I didn't tell him how vulnerable I was when I slept, even though he had a high chance of finding out later.

"So I've noticed that your unique smell just rubs that all out. Not to mention, you're warm, so you're like a big bed heater," I finally concluded. Although his scent still triggered shivers down my spine and an on the rare occasion, the overwhelming instinct to flee, it was still generally better than the sickly sweet odor of vampires. I hoped his warmth would be enough to keep me sane in my mental nighttime wanderings.

"Oh, when you put it like that," said Jacob sarcastically, rolling his eyes, but following me to my room anyway.

My room was at first decorated in the same style as the rest of the bland house, but I found some bright red covers for the bed, and added a few sky blue pillows. It wasn't much, but it was an improvement. All I needed now were some sparkles. Ha, yeah right.

He sat on the bed, and I sat gingerly near him, making sure not to squash any sensitive areas. It was strange to be so close to Jacob in such an intimate setting, but the feeling was not unwelcome.

And he was _warm_. His heat seemed to seep into my very bones, lulling me, relaxing me.

Yawning, I tried to ask, "Is this okay?" My head seemed to grow heavy, and I rested it on his chest, wondering for a brief moment as to why Jacob seemed to have absolutely no chest hair. Wasn't being part dog meant to make him uber hairy or something?

I think Jacob was telling me it was fine, but I was beginning to mumble, "You're so nice and warm. You're like your own sun. It's wonderful..."

At this, Jacob started stroking my hair, and although I would have normally protested to such actions, so friendly and intimate, I couldn't be bothered. Anyway, the feeling was nice, and drove me to sleep so much faster.

I fell asleep with a smile, and my dreams featured wolves running across water, trying in vain to catch the moon's reflection, only to howl in despair as their feet sent ripples that broke the image to bits.

And I saw a huge black wolf jump up into the sky to rip a star from the heavens, a glowing rock shaped like a child caught between its jaws, struggling helplessly to escape, a high pitched squeal emitting when the wolf swallowed it whole, engulfing the world in sudden darkness, before the wolf itself began to glow like some dark fire.

It was amazingly enthralling. These were the dreams I longed for. So I sighed happily as I watched the other wolves yelp and run to catch their own star. Soon there were a pack of wolves that glowed like black flames running across the waters…

*******

**A/N: Chapter was short, I know. Really more of a filler chapter.**

**Sorry for talking chess so much. I love chess.**

**Bella was being a bitch to Rosalie, too much so, I think. But they'll get better as time moves on. Patience.**

**Send me some love this way, and I'll send some right back!**

**Have a cookie for reading!**


	12. Painted Memories

**A/N: In which Bella has a huge emotional explosion... O.o**

**Sorry for the major delay; Word crashed, then my computer crashed, and then we got a virus. I think the world hates me. But up and running and here we go!**

**Disclaimer: I wrote this using another person's characters. *Gasp!* Naughty of me, but fun to do anyway.**

*******

**Chapter Twelve.**

On the fifth day I was at the Cullen household, my back felt better, and my thighs less ginger. I could almost walk the length of the entire hallway on my own. Only a bit longer and I'd be perfect to go out into the big bad world.

Before I healed and disappeared, Jacob got me to promise to meet up with the pack and share some "trade secrets". And he pulled an adorable face at me, asking me so nicely to go, I caved. And maybe I could pick up some tricks in turn. Though I doubted they could show me something that didn't need claws.

Also, I was very much interested in seeing what Jacob would look like morphed. I imagined a huge gray wolf like the ones in Europe. Or maybe black, to match the sheen of his short hair, which was as dark as oil or as black as a starless night.

But all of that had to wait until I was able to run around and catch my own lunch.

Right now, I was investigating the top floor, something I had avoided before because I couldn't walk up all those flights of stairs, and I felt bad to ask Jacob for help all the time. At the moment, he was out on another patrol with his pack.

I thought there might have been some level of awkwardness in the air between us when we woke up together, but there wasn't. Well, apart from Jacob and I sharing matching blushes as we woke up in the same bed. But after all that, we still acted the same around one another. I mean, we still talked about meaningless stuff like music and movies and books.

Jacob loved speaking car, and was trying to teach me to understand in the insides of an engine, but it didn't really hold my attention. Just like books didn't hold his. I liked how he was generally relaxed around me, his jokes corny but always making me laugh.

"In the Color's family household, the phone rang: "Green green!" The daughter pink-ed up the phone and said, "Yellow?" That was a terrible example, but I laughed at his accompanying actions and motions.

Pushing a mahogany door open as I shook my head at the memory, I was accosted by the scent of Carlisle. His study then, I concluded, peering around curiously. It was queer that none of the Cullens, sans Rosalie, minded me up and around their house. Also equally unnerving was the reality I now could identify each vampire by scent alone. I'd been here much too long if that were the case.

You know, I'm sure I'd hesitate in killing them. Huh. I'm not sure that I was going to kill the lot of them before I leave. After all, they have been unusually nice for vampires. Maybe I'll let them survive for another decade or so. As a thank-you to them.

Letting them live, even if they are "vegetarian" seems risky... It only takes one bite to pass on the curse, and I did swear not to leave a single vampire standing before I bid goodbye to life. Shaking my head, I looked around the room.

Books lined the wall, many of their spines displaying gold letterings, telling me that they were mostly medical textbooks, a few about history. The size of the room was large, but seemed smaller, swallowed up by the sheer number and volume of books. Walking inside the study, I felt a small sense of awe fill me.

Turning around, I saw that the wall with the door was covered in paintings. Paintings of all shapes, colours, sizes, and quality adorned the wall, shocking in their intensity and variation. I was momentarily blinded by the sheer number of images.

Soon though, I started looking at each individual painting, staring in amazement at it all. _Was this some of Edward's work? _But looking at all the paintings, I noticed that they were all painted with different styles, different brush strokes, and different paints. I concluded they were done by a variation of different artisans.

The door was burst open as Alice stormed in, her eyes dancing with worry. Her frantic demeanor worried me for a moment, my eyes automatically darting around the room, searching for the cause of her distress.

Until it hit me; she was staring at me, her eyes roaming up and down, as if to make sure I was really there.

Her gaze was a tad annoying, so I snapped, "What the hell?"

"You _look_ fine..." she muttered under her breath. "Sorry," she apologized suddenly, rubbing the back of her head with an air of embarrassment hanging over her. "Just another vision malfunction."

Resisting the urge to roll my eyes, barely withholding the desire, I said, "Didn't we already discuss this? You already said that you can't see my future at all. Like you can't see a thing of the La Push pack." And we did have an in-depth conversation on this.

A few days ago, I was bored and started talking to Alice, wondering if she could see when exactly I would be cured. I found out that my future was as corrupted as shredded documents. She could get nothing from me. Well, not _nothing_. On occasion, Alice could get a flash, but nothing terribly interesting.

We threw around various reasons as to why she couldn't see me, somehow finding Edward and Carlisle joining the conversation. For an afternoon we wondered; well, they did. I had an inkling of the reasons. It could be because of my barrier, but the more logical reasoning would be my cross-breeding heritage. Alice couldn't see the wolves either, so not getting me made sense.

"So what did you see?" I asked without giving her my full attention, my eyes still scanning the beautiful artistry with interest.

A nervous laugh escaped Alice. "I saw a lot of blood and screaming. Must have been something else entirely because—" At that point, my ears stopped working, and I stopped hearing her.

I froze as my gaze landed on a certain image. My heartbeat raced, and my palms began to tingle, feeling itchy. My eyes widened, and I felt the air leave my lungs. It was hard to stop the reflex to vomit as my stomach heaved.

_No, this can't be here. THIS CAN'T BE HERE!_

"Alice," I said in a scary-calm voice, devoid of emotion. "What's that picture of?" I pointed to the offending image with a hand that barely escaped shaking. After listening to Alice's brief description, I nodded tersely and muttered, "Huh."

Hobbling down the stairs, a confused Alice following, I heard her ask me something. A strange buzzing had taken residence in my ears, drowning out the sounds of the world. Because I couldn't seem to hear anything, I just responded with a non-committal, "Huh."

Looking down, I couldn't register the usual lancing pain from my legs and back, so I dropped my clutches, still feeling nothing. Huh. The smell of my blood permeated the air, and I frowned at the thick coy scent.

Somehow I found myself outside, walking to the forest, my eyesight blurring. There was someone in front of me, shouting things like "Stop", "Bleeding", "Wounds" and "Crutches". It was easy to shove past them and into the forest. The smell of pine needles crushed by my feet barely registered.

A second later, I zoned out. I didn't see red like in the stories, nor did I see black. What I experienced in my barely concealed anger and rage was an overwhelmingly blinding white that covered me up, rendering me without sight. Somehow I was aware that my body was doing something, yet I was oddly detached from everything.

I remembered Alice's words... _Oh, that painting? It's sort of like a group photo of Carlisle and his brief encounter with the Volturi. It's like him with all the scientific vampires at the main castle..._

Standing to the left of Carlisle, close to the gold leaf frame, was the devil himself.

My father...

It was merely an image, so I don't know why I was so damn angry. So fucking angry and hurt to see his face again. Maybe it was because I had thought that he was gone, eradicated from this world in the pyre I so happily built from his torn limbs. To see his face again was like a punch in the gut. An unwanted experience, that's for sure.

The bastard never laid a hand on me, so at least I was thankful he wasn't abusive. In fact, if I looked up a textbook definition of a competent father, he'd ironically fit the description. He fed me, cared for me (not loved me though, cared for me as one would a priceless antique), taught me things and never ever hurt me if he could help it.

But I hated him with the same fervor as if Hitler was my dad. If you knew about the Holocaust, and Adolf Hitler was your father, no matter how nicely he treated you, you would be disgusted; horrified even. To know that the person who gave you life was a fucking murderer, a torturer, a madman!

You'd detest them. Especially if they were training you to follow in their footsteps.

His blood lived on through me, and sometimes that fact drove me to the brink of insanity. Of course, if I thought it could help, I would have gone to a psychiatrist by now. Huh, yeah, I'm going to gush all of my supernatural problems to a shrink who'll then probably institutionalize me. _The padded walls would probably be a nice place to sleep though..._

I wanted to tear my skin off of my bones; I felt so dirty, so infected with something I couldn't cure or control—a lineage I would forever detest and feel shameful of.

Not too often, but often enough for discomfort, I wondered whether I was evil because I was my father's child. Nature over nurture? Was that the case with me? But then again, I had spent my childhood learning from him, so he affected me when I was at my most impressionable. _No! I can't be totally evil! I mean, I try to fight for the humans, don't I?_

That rat-bastard, messing with me even after death. That man was like a curse that couldn't be lifted, a shadow that followed me and made me scream at night.

I thought he was gone. No, I _knew_ he was gone. Fucking gone from my life, that horrible piece-of-shit that I had to call a father. I killed him, ripped him apart with my bare hands, and set fire to his still-twitching pile of meat. Laughed with glee as his body dissolved into ash and floated away in the air.

Unfair to think that he was immortalized in paints on a canvas, a tangible object to prove he had existence, when my mother had nothing. Of course, I looked for something, _anything_, but in those days, most people couldn't afford food where I was brought up, and so finding an exact replica of her face was impossible.

Yet here was a picture of my dad, smiling oh-so blandly as some random artist copied him down. It was him to a tee. A perfect replica, so probably the work of another vampire.

And he worked for the Volturi, my top priority, my number one enemies. The pairing was as if fate was re-enforcing me to kill those so-called "royalty". But it did explain why that bastard knew so much about them, telling me everything so I knew some of their weaknesses...

Actually, he was probably building an army to take them down. With me as his number two in command.

That thought pulled me into reality. I looked around me in alarm. It looked as if I was in the middle of a huge meteor crater, everything around me with a hundred feet radius disintegrated and charred, wisps of smoke drifting upward into the air. There were no trees left, all ripped and blackened, as if a bomb exploded.

My legs suddenly felt fatigued, and I collapsed to my knees, sharp shocks of pain going up and down my spine. A warm pressure in my hand make me look down, seeing my blackened fingers holding on to my lighter with such pressure that the metal was starting to warp. When I loosened my grip, I looked up to see a collection of vampires staring at me, wide-eyed with surprise and fear.

Something moist dripped down my legs, and I realized that whatever I did must have re-opened my wounds. _Shit_. My clothes fluttered in the faint breeze, tattered and singed, looking very worse for wear. Peeking out from the hem of my shirt was a loose white bandage, splattering with crimson droplets; my bindings must have been unraveling. My arms stung, and I could feel a burning sensation start up in my forearms and shoulders.

"Oh," I breathed out, my eyes losing their focus, the world suddenly looking very wobbly indeed. Shaking my head, I glanced around, and exhaled heavily. "Huh."

Coughing heavily, I fell to the grounds on all fours feeling terribly weak again. "Well this is crappy," I complained to no one in particular. And that was when I passed out, fainting into the damp dirt like a little school girl. I was still semi-conscious, but I wasn't responding to the vampires congregating around me, voices colored with worry.

Shame. I would've expected more from me. After all, I've known pain all my life. What's a little more going to do?

It was hard to think past this point because I think I fell asleep.

I swam through the murky waters of a nightmare, unable to breathe properly. I saw my dad laughing at me from the top of a dark, jagged cliff as I tried to grab my mother's hand, slippery with water, only to have it escape as she fell into a dark void, a swirling pit of darkness, screaming all the while, "Why didn't you save me?"

I didn't even get to see my mom's face. All I got was to hear her scream.

*******

**A/N: And that be the catalyst... Poor Bella. But this is where things really start to get interesting.**

**My favourite bit to write in this story? The dream sequences, the short paragraphs explaining the things she sees. Even though they don't mean anything. I think.**

**That last one made _me_ shiver, just a bit. O.o**

**Can you review? I'm feeling a little down. *Sigh*. Thanks for reading, anyway. Have a muffin. **


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